Long Before
by Nat K. Watson
Summary: Long before the basic events of the TV-series, many years before "Through Gryvon's Eyes…" something happened in Spellbinder Land that started the story of a future Spellbinder and changed her life forever.
1. Story 1 Collision

**Long Before… **

**Rated:** K+, T.

**Disclaimer:** All rights belong to Mark Shirrefs and John Thomson.

**Characters:** Gareth (OC), Ashka.

**Genre:** family/friendship.

**Warning:** This is the author's prequel to "Through Gryvon's Eyes…", which is recommended to read at first. Seeing this story events had been happening many years before the TV-series or the previous story, some characters will be already familiar for the readers, and some of them will be new. For the same reasons Ashka's nature will be very different from TV-series' one, for the better. As before, comments are more than welcomed))

**Story 1. Collision. **

**W**hat a quiet evening… What a strangely quiet and charming evening… The forest was surprisingly calm and for some reasons these peace and quiet appeared for him just now. The weather was fine and the evening wind – cool but mild. Light windflaws, passing by, tried to dishevel the rider's long hair or to run through his horse's mane.

Gareth smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Everything was strange. Only a week ago Brey died. His old teacher, one of the oldest Spellbinders in the castle. Everyone knew this moment was to come, but somehow his death seemed so unexpected. Why? Why did the final word always rest with him?

The man realized he was near the fork in the forest road, having no idea which track to choose. Oh, what's wrong? How much longer is he going to behave like a sentimental young fool? Thinking for a moment, he turned Star to the right track…

Speaking about foolishness and sentimentality, he, Gareth, had all the reasons for the first one and for the second one. The castle was still saving the image of the past, the memories about dead Spellbinder. People were still having either a light shock, or a prolonged tragedy feeling. And it was only Gareth who felt absolutely nothing. Perhaps because he did know Brey better than any other resident of the castle? He knew that beneath the scrawny appearance and wrinkles there were a rather quarrelsome nature, a lack of patience and more than loud voice for his age. He knew that despite the death approaching, the old Spellbinder made him feel not respect but some anxious fear, just as when he was a child.

He shook his head, getting rid of these musty mortified memories. Unlike many others he felt not grief but regret. He really felt sorry for the old man, however what could he do in his twenty-six? "This is the age, Apprentice, when people should learn and still change themselves", - Brey usually said. Gareth just nodded obediently. Nobody was bothered with his opinion, such a normal thing.

The time of his Apprenticeship had been long past, now the teacher was gone also… But there was left a stupid awkward feeling that part of his life was lived in vain, in fear and strict discipline. And all these things were mixed up in his head with suddenly appearing freedom. Perhaps, for the first time in his life he owed nothing. Well, something to the Council, probably, but it does not count. While the castle had a mourning period, Gareth was still the only one touched by the events less than others. He had spent three days in the library, with no idea of what to do and where to go. The next three day he'd spent in his room, realizing that very soon somebody would have come to him and asked if he was all right. Gareth was, but it was difficult to explain. And it wasn't worth it, if he wanted to save some properties.

Keeping a neutral face, he went to the stable on the seventh day and met Regent Jal, telling him he'd like to unwind. Regent nodded with sympathy, wishing him a good day. So Gareth mounted a horse, so he went under the stone arch, so he appeared in the forest where he didn't have to control himself and play the proper game…

"Help! – he heard somewhere from the right. - Anybody! He-e-ey!"

The voice was quite strange, wheezing and harsh, like the sound of powersuit plates put together. That person had been shouting for more than an hour…

Stopping the horse, Gareth looked around, trying to see the owner of the voice. Suddenly something moved in the thicket at the hill and the girl appeared. A small and scared one, in dirty clothes with leaves sticking onto it. Leaves were also in her hair, ginger once, but incomprehensibly messy now…

They were observing one another for several moments, not expecting such a meeting at all, and then, even before Gareth had some seconds to dismount, the girl ran to him. She stumbled, fell, not noticing it, got up and continued running. She ran into the man, collided, nearly knocking him down. Gareth tried to keep his balance, not aware a child had such a strength, and was hugged immediately. Her slim arms, pale, covered with cuts and scratches, appeared from a large shirt sleeves, enfolded him as strong as it was possible. Green eyes, huge, desperate, looked at the man with fear.

"Help me…," - the girl repeated. She'd strained her voice obviously, because these two quiet words seemed more like a roar.

Gareth got confused. Not by too familiar behavior of a child – of course, there was the Untouchability law in the villages, but it never applied to children under ten. The girl clinging to him was younger. The Spellbinder looked around one more time trying to see somebody with whom she could come here and think of where from she could be. In the name of all Regents, there were no settlements around, of course, apart from Clayhill somewhere at the other side of the forest. But she really couldn't…

"Are you alone here?" – pulling himself together, he kneeled in front of her, wiping the dirt away from the child's face. The tracks on her cheeks seemed like tears that didn't dry.

"Yes, - the girl whispered, - Spellbinder, help me, please!"

Wincing, she put a hand on her throat. Gareth saw it was painful for her to speak. But since nobody was following the child from the thicket, he had to ask her some more questions.

"Are you from Clayhill, little one?"

A nod. He was glad and worried at the same time. There was a little more information, but it sounded too absurd. What does a child do so far from her home, alone, in the evening? And with her voice strained…

"Are you able to whisper?" – Spellbinder asked carefully. She nodded again, still looking at him with fear. By this time Gareth had already cleaned her forehead and cheeks and now was looking at the result.

"What's your name?"

"Ashka".

Not bad, Ashka from Clayhill. Now all he needed to do was finding her family and making a good blowing-up for such a careless attitude to their child.

"Well, Ashka, let me ask how did it happen that you are alone in the forest? – Gareth asked, smiling. - And what's wrong with your throat?"

Suddenly it seemed her glance froze, observing something in the distance. Gareth gave a start, turning around quickly, afraid that someone was standing behind him. There was nothing. Taking a breath, he looked at the child again.

"My… my mum, she… She died, - Ashka whispered, looking at him, - and dad…"

Gareth's heart skipped a bit.

"And dad?" – he helped.

"He jumped from the cliff, - the girls said, wincing one more time, - I ran away and cried for help and…"

"…and got your voice strained", - the man concluded. Thoughts were mixed up, confusion came again.

"You have nobody left, am I right? – Before she started speaking he added. - Just nod if yes".

Pause. Then a careful nod. No, she wasn't crying. Just stood in front of him, watching his face. "She'd already cried her grief", - Spellbinder thought mournfully, imagining how long the child was walking through the forest if her throat was in so much pain. How long she was looking for anybody…

He shook his head, coming back to reality, thinking of what to do now. How to act? Where should this child go? No one's waiting for her… Stop, Gareth, don't be a fool, what "go"? Just look at her, she's in shock and she hardly can speak. It's necessary not to wait, but to react.

He looked at the sky, seeing that pink-golden color was turning into blue slowly. It was getting dark, and not for his benefit.

"This is how it looks, Ashka, - Gareth said in the official Spellbinder manner, - now were are going to the castle. You need to take a bath, change your clothes and drink some potion on order to speak normally again. Don't you mind to go to the castle with me?" – he tried to make the last phrase sound not too official, hardly knowing what the child will think about his offer. Perhaps she would be scared even more… But it seemed Ashka wasn't going to leave him at all. Clasping the sleeve of his black sweater with her slim fingers, she nodded quickly, as id she was afraid the man would change his mind or disappear.

He clocked his tongue several times. Star, trained for different unexpected cases, kneeled obediently. Gareth put Ashka on the horse's back lightly and then mounted too, waiting for the animal to stand up…

Leaving his foundling with three maidservants, which hurried to boil water and prepare the bath in his room, Gareth called for Stogar from the lower level, who was making some medicine. Describing the situation with no details, Gareth made sure the healer was skilled enough to prepare a necessary potion for the child. Waiting for him to start the work after the bow, Spellbinder went upstairs, walking towards the hall of the Council. It was time for details and guesses. And actions.

Tark was sitting at the table and reading a book, he called for Jal and Larius quickly. Of course, at first they were not very happy a quiet evening had been disturbed. But Gareth had enough patience and persuasiveness to make the three of them do something after his story. More precisely, to let him do this "something".

Gareth contacted the Summoner of Clayhill, trying to find out what had happened. He heard that missed Velat had been already looked for for several hours. Something in the Summoner's voice seemed strange for Gareth. Sighing, he put on his cloak again, feeling the adventure wasn't finished yet. Whatever had happened, apparently it wasn't a good idea to discuss it through the Eyestone and make the whole court aware…

"…Lara had been ill for some time, Spellbinder. One couldn't say it was so obvious. Sometimes she went to the healer, took different potions, but who doesn't? – the Summoner made a helpless gesture. - and we understood it had been serious only several weeks ago. It was up to Velat to take care of little Ashka, he became gloomy and quiet, didn't talk to anybody… And when his wife died…, - saying nothing more, the man went forward, lighting the land with a torch, - well, he just lost his mind. He throw away the things, cried and called for Lara, moved around Clayhill like a ghost. And this morning he went away together with Ashka, we didn't notice when…"

"Why didn't you make people watch his house? – Gareth asked, searching with the others. - You saw something was wrong. And you had to take away the child!"

"Sorry, Spellbinder, - Summoner looked down obediently, - he wouldn't let us. Neither to the house, nor to Ashka. Women in the village were worried about her…"

"Not in vain, - Gareth said sarcastically, - Velat took his daughter to the rocks and then jumped down from one of them. I hardly realize how the girl got away but it is obvious her fate was going to be sad".

The Summoner felt guilty. A group of men going with then was silent. For the first time in his life Gareth, who had always been reproached for his unnecessary kindness, felt a desperate need to banish someone. Or all of them, as a good example. What sort of people are they! Such a nightmare had been happening next to them, but nobody helped, nobody went further than watching, nobody interfered. Nobody called for the Spellbinders until it was too late! And perhaps they would have saved Lara…

"We found! We found him!" – They heard from a distance. Gareth went to where the voices were heard from, climbing slowly down the rocky track. Perhaps Stogar would have healed the woman. Yes, he wasn't almighty, but Gareth was sure, this knowledge would have been enough to help Lara… Spellbinders' knowledge is more extensive than the peasants'.

Gareth felt terrible thinking of the Spellbinders. Wasn't the Order instilling respect anymore? Were people afraid of the Council so much that didn't even ask for help? And what was the reason for it – peasants' ignorance or Spellbinders? Were they so terrible and cruel for them?

"Why am I not the Regent?" – Gareth mumbled, reaching a flat ground where some people were already standing…

It was already dark when he finally went to the castle. People of Clayhill decided to take care of Velat themselves, Gareth permitted kindly. Putting off his cloak, he went upstairs and tried to guess, what was his foundling doing and what was in the room.

The room was all right. Next to the door a maidservant was waiting for him, bowing and saying that the child had been taken care of.

"… and even put to bed", - the girl added leaving her post.

Gareth dropped his jaw.

"What do you mean with "put to bed"? Where to?" – But the girl had already turned round the corner; it was no use to follow her. He had been aware that in case of need servants were fantastically fast.

The man opened the door, observing his room. And then he got it. Well of course, he had to guess immediately. Little children should go to sleep early, when it is possible. And since he hadn't given any instructions about this (well, he'd forgot, actually), maids made their own decision.

Walking into the room slowly, he carefully reached the bed. Little Ashka was sleeping, with her face nuzzled into the pillow; she was in a clean white shirt taken from his wardrobe. And then somebody coughed delicately behind his back…

"Who's there?" – Not expecting it at all, he turned around, looking at the eleven- or twelve-year-old blond girl.

"Sorry, Spellbinder, - the guest whispered. It was Marna, Tark's Apprentice, diligent and delicate as usual, - Regent asked me to look after the child in your absence. Stogar gave her a medicine to strengthen her voice".

"Thank you, - Gareth nodded, having no idea the Council would be so kind after his previous thoughts about them, - you may go, Marna, good night".

"Good night, Spellbinder", - the girl bowed and left, closing the door quietly.

Gareth had to stay there, along with his thoughts, lack of idea about what to do and the occupied bed. The Spellbinder didn't realize the child would have been in his room. On the other hand, where else she had to be if he stirred up the trouble?

Oh well, he had to start with something easy – he still can prepare a place to sleep. The man went to the armchair near the window and put his cloak onto the armrest. Then went to the bathroom and put the powersuit off, trying to make as little noise as possible. Looking for the struts and hanging it right now wasn't necessary, it can wait until the morning.

He came back to the room and reached the bed, avoiding loud sounds, afraid even to breathe. While he'd been busy with the powersuit, Ashka turned to the left side, now faced to the wall. Her clean hair was still a little wet, lying on the pillow. And only now Gareth had a chance to see how beautiful her hair was. Thick, shiny and already quite long. And this strange unique color… Gareth realized that child's hair color reminded him of the copper plates and bracelets on the powersuit. He carefully touched a delicate hair lock with his finger… But that copper was warm and tender. Straightening her blanket, he went to the armchair. Of course, his neck wouldn't thank him in the morning for such tricks. But what choice can it have?

Looking at the bed one more time, he left the candles burning on the table, in case she'd need something. Funny thing, just this morning he couldn't guess that the evening would give him such surprises and involve him, Gareth, into a story like this. Children… He hardly understood how to treat them, not to mention some long care. Of course he had dealt with children several times, but it was very quickly, episodically, riding a horse through a couple of villages, nodding kindly to one, smiling to the other. Letting a group of boys and girls greet him with happy shouts. But that's all. Brey had always told him to keep his distance, that was a rule not for discussion. Everybody in the castle behaved like this. He also had to behave like this. And tonight…

Tonight he broke all the rules at once, took the child to the castle, started thinking about her family history, and it seemed he was planning the future steps? No, that was too much! How had children to be treated in cases like this? They were brought up by somebody else, that's it. Yes, he felt sorry and took her to the castle, because there was no time to act in some different way. However that meant nothing. Perhaps there are some women around Clayhill, who could take care of the girl. Or around some other village. That was all he needed. He'd make the necessary things, he didn't have to think of what Brey would have told. No worries. Nobody asked for more.

Thinking in such a manner, Gareth wrapped up in his cloak and fell asleep…


	2. Story 2 Installation and nightmares

**Story 2. Installation and nightmares. **

**B**rought up by somebody else… Brought up by somebody else… he was going to follow his own decision and be firm. But first of all he had to give Ashka her normal voice back. That wouldn't take too much time, would it?

Nevertheless, the first night, when she had a nightmare, when she woke up and screamed, racking up her tired vocal cords, made Gareth understand that couldn't be easy. Because the second night was the same, he got up quickly, running to the bed, murmuring comforting words. Ashka fell asleep again, squeezing his sleeve, while the Spellbinder was kneeling near her, stroking the girl's shoulder with one hand and massaging his numb neck with the other.

The Council was stubbornly silent during these three days, watching but not interfering. It seemed the Regents were waiting for Gareth's obstinacy to be gone, for the young man to give up and understand the child had to be sent back to the village. On the third day sleeping in the armchair let Gareth feel not just his neck aching but his right shoulder also. The man gave a start looking in the mirror and realized his strength had its limits. Just the obstinacy was unlimited. For the second time in the last few days Marna entered his room. Her independence made Gareth smile.

"I took the liberty to think of a dinner, - the girl showed him some food on the table, - you won't be angry, Spellbinder?"

"Angry? Not at all", - he closed the door, looking at Ashka. Today she felt much better than two days ago. Wearing Marna's blue uniform, which was not her size, with her hair combed neatly, Ashka was sitting at the table and eating hot broth. Stogar hadn't allowed her to speak yet, so the girl silently observed the castle residents, busy with her.

"Did Tark decide to condescend for us?" – Gareth asked Marna, sitting down to eat. She shook her head.

"Actually, it was my own decision, Spellbinder. Excuse me, - she stopped then, - I felt so sorry for you…"

He laughed.

"If you wish I could take Ashka for a walk, - young Apprentice continued, - the child needs some fresh air and you need to rest. You look awful".

"Oh, I am pleased to hear it, - Gareth murmured playfully, - anyway, thank you, Marna. I appreciate it".

The girl lowered her head shyly and smiled. Then she along with Ashka went to the courtyard and further, to the garden. Being left alone for the first time, Gareth fell on the bed, in clothes he wore – the habit, the tunic and the boots…

He didn't know what to do. If he had to think of and plan something or let the things take their course. A week passed. Ashka was still living in his room; the only difference for the Spellbinder was his own decision to sleep on the floor, not in the armchair. There were enough spare rooms in the castle, but it was useless to settle the girl out. As well as settling himself out. Yes, herbal potions of Stogar were making a really wonderful progress; she was to get her voice back quite soon. But she still had her nightmares. She saw her parents – mum that had died so early and dad who'd lost his mind. And getting up from the floor at nights, the young Spellbinder felt he was to spend some more time with her in one room.

"It's not within my power, - Stogar made a helpless gesture one evening, when Gareth had ran into his chambers with "What do I do?", - I can make a sedative potion but it won't be useful for this kind of trauma. Time is need".

There was enough time. All he had to think about was what to do with this time. Sending Ashka back to the village? Finding a new family, which would take care of her? Just a week ago that had been something he wanted to do, but now… now he had doubts. One would say the little girl got used to her new conditions. To the unusually big new room, to the bed with a blanket decorated with Spellbinder symbols. To the castle… well, he couldn't say for sure, children had always been too complicated creatures. But anyway, she reacted a little better than Gareth, that was something he didn't doubt. Before sleeping she asked him to sit next to her, that helped her. And Gareth put a chair, near the bed, sitting with her obediently. In such moments he felt strange. Silly and somehow awkward, on the one hand. On the other hand – surprisingly contented. He sang for her quiet melodies of ballroom dances, thank Regents, he had a rather decent voice for that. However, she was interested in her further fate more often, asking him several times a day:

"What will happen to me?"

"I do not know, - the man answered honestly, - it is up to Council to decide".

"And when will they?"

"When we find out who's more stubborn here", - he thought with dismal mood and then said:

"Quite soon, suppose. Sleep now".

He started again the unfinished melody. And Ashka fell asleep. And strange, the nightmares didn't torment her that night…

She just considers you as her rescuer, that's why she reaches out for you. Children, no matter how complicated they are, need to reach out for somebody. She has no more parents, and then she got you on her way…

Gareth smiled wryly. Apparently Brey was speaking through him once again. This could mean just one thing: he was becoming an unsuccessful pessimist. But he wasn't in the age for that. And seemed he had to compromise. He wasn't able to be more stubborn than the Council – there were three of them and he was alone. He had to give up, listen to their moralistic precepts and final decision. Maybe it was for the better that only one week had passed. Ashka would go back to the village, she couldn't get used to the castle too much. And he…

"How is your little foundling?" – he heard very close. Gareth raised his head. A handsome dark-haired man was reaching the bench under the tree.

"Thanks, Correon, right now she's playing with the horse, - seeing the Spellbinder raised his eyebrows he quickly clarified, - not with a real one but with a statuette from my room. It was standing on a shelf, forgotten by everyone, and today Ashka asked me what toy it was. I had to show her".

Correon laughed.

"Don't you think she would break it?"

"So be it then, - Gareth gave it up as lost, - if the Council is preparing a blow-up for me, she'll have something to remember in the village. So is the horse's fate".

The dark-haired Spellbinder sat down next to him, looking at his feet. They kept silent for some time.

"Look, why are you tormenting yourself? – Correon spoke again. - I am not blind".

"What do you mean?" – Gareth asked, surprised. Correon patted him on the shoulder with his wide palm.

"Do you want her to stay in the castle? Just don't give me some long explanations now. Yes or no?"

Gareth sighed. It seemed he could be seen through.

"At first I didn't. And now… I'm afraid I do. Start wanting it. When I look at her I remember Mira".

"When I look at you two I also remember her", - Correon said. Now the whole range of feelings was written on Gareth's face, even a light shock.

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely, - Spellbinder nodded, - yes, it can be seen. And yes, I know what you're thinking about. That's not too difficult to understand".

He put his hand on Gareth's shoulder again.

"Once Brey made you misstep. And left with no family. You know, our mistakes aren't something we should consolidate".

"But what do I do, Correon? – Gareth exclaimed. - I've already become the greatest sensation at court. Today after the breakfast Larius looked at me in such a way that my inside froze. Just think of it, a little child lives in the castle by who-knows-what right, I play a caring daddy, the Council isn't fond of it but everybody acts like they aren't bothered. It can not last for too long…"

"So strike first, - Correon's eyes shined with mischief, - go and tell them you make the girl your Apprentice".

Gareth froze forgetting everything he was going to say. For a moment he thought he heard it wrong, that it was a joke and Correon would smile. Oh yes, he did smile. But his look didn't seem joking.

"That won't work out, - Gareth said finally, - what Apprenticeship if she's only six? Children of this age run through the puddles barefoot, not read the books!"

"I'm not saying you should forbid her to run through the puddles, - the dark-haired man smirked, - nice example, by the way. I just say that every rule should have an exception. You need the right to let her stay in the castle? Fine, Spellbinder Gareth should have thought about his possible Apprentice long ago. That may be Ashka".

He kept silent again, giving the younger companion a chance to gather his thoughts and make a decision. And Gareth tried to control his own conflicting feelings. The idea was brilliant in its simplicity and so obvious. He didn't know what the Council would say, but persuasion had always been the art, which Gareth mastered. And that very moment – indeed, what a surprise – he experienced the joy. He was happy, having no idea of what the reason was. Nobody promised anything and nobody confirmed anything, nobody knew for sure and hadn't given any official permission. He was just a rescuer in the forest, a small temporary element on Ashka's way. And they were still the strangers for each other. And she'd become a little attached only, that's all. But that very moment – perhaps he had to thank Correon for his presence – Brey along with all his disapproving possible answers did fade in his mind.

That evening, preparing and making the right mood for the future dialog, he went to the hall of the Council. Ashka wasn't sleeping yet, she sat on the bed and watched him closely holding the still intact statuette. Gareth straightened his tunic deliberately slowly, smoothed down his hair, trying to look nice and act in a usual way. But he forgot that children, along with being complicated, could easily read other people's feelings. Girls did it perfectly.

"You worry about me, Spellbinder? – she asked carefully. - You don't need to".

"She lost her parents and she's comforting me, how ironic", - the man straightened his sweater.

"How many times I told you to stop this "Spellbindering", just Gareth, - he smoothed his hair one final time and turned to her, - what Spellbinder am I if I behave like a boy?"

She smiled suddenly, still looking at him. Gareth realized he was smiling too. Holly Regents, either he does it, or he will be the greatest coward!

Leaving the room he ran to the hall of the Council. Run, run before he changes his mind… And so he ran and went downstairs, opening the doors in one movement, already aware all three were there. All together. He even paid no heed to Larius's mocking "At last". Catching his breath he bowed after a pause.

"I request the Council's permission to make Ashka my Apprentice…"


	3. Story 3 Revelations and legends

**Story 3. Revelations and legends. **

"**A**re you tired?"

"No".

"We can go back to the castle if you want".

"No, it's all right here".

They were sitting on their cloaks, lying on the hill grass. One side was smooth, leading down to the field where the sun was shining. The other side was in the cool shadow of trees, where the wayfarers hid when it had become too hot. Ashka crossed her legs and put a book closer.

"Could you read again for me?"

He had a light shock.

"Ashka, we've been already reading for about two hours. Enthusiasm is nice, of course, but you should have rest too. Even from history", - Gareth laughed.

"But I am not tired, - the girl repeated stubbornly, turning to him, - I am ready to hear more. Though…, - she made a short pause, - maybe you're tired? Please, forgive me".

She felt guilty. Gareth wasn't very tired actually, so he reassured her.

"I am fine, - the man took a big flask and an apple from his bag, giving the fruit to Ashka, - it is useful in some way, if you want to know. With you I revise the things I already know. By the way, did I tell you the story about Spellbinder Ard and how he tamed a dragon for the first time?"

"No, - Ashka answered with surprise, biting the apple, - will you?"

The man giggled. The story about Spellbinder Ard was one of his favorite in the tattered history book. The ancient legend about the brave man who had lived long before the Darkness, when there had been dragons in their country. The story of how he could tame the dragon leader and take it to the castle. When Gareth was a boy he could listen to this part for hours. And when Brey's patience had reached its limit and the teacher said he had enough trample at one and the same chapter, Gareth decided to read it himself. The one thing he didn't like was a strict chronicle style. It wasn't proper for the legend. It should have been told in a different way…

"…Once it happened so that brave Ard who lived in the castle, wished to become a Regent, - Gareth started improvising with his intonation, - and one would say he had all the reasons for it: he was a clever, noble and brave soul. And he had a beloved one…"

"Beloved one? – Ashka asked, confused. - What is it?"

"Who, - the man corrected with a smile, - she was a beautiful lady, also a Spellbinder. She lived in the same castle. And her name was… Oh, what was her name…"

As ill luck would have it, he had already forgotten the lady's name. Having no intention to give up and read in the book, Gareth tried to make an answer immediately, recalling some appropriate feminine names. But that was when Ashka spoke again:

"And do you have a beloved one?"

Really, that was unexpected. Of all the things Gareth could have heard, he hadn't expected those words. Though after two years he got used to the fact that children had more directness than adults. They weren't able to pretend yet. But anyway, that question…

"No, - he shook his head, - no… I don't have a beloved one…, - seeing Ashka wasn't happy with such a short explanation and she was still watching him, he added, - I had once… Long ago".

"And what happened to her? – Ashka became sad at once. - Did she die?"

All the feelings a child could express were written on her face.

"No, in the name of Regents, why did you think so? – he said quickly, before the girl had a chance to rewrite his life path mentally. - She is all right and lives near the river. She has a family – a husband and children…"

"How is it? – Ashka remembered her almost forgotten apple. - She is your beloved one but she has another family?"

Amazed by such an exact question, Gareth took a sip from the flask. For some moments he could concentrate on what he was going to tell her.

"Long ago, - the man started, - I was an Apprentice. And indeed, I had a beloved one".

"And what was her name?" – Ashka wanted to specify, sitting closer.

"Mira. Her name was Mira. She lived in the village and I was already living in the castle. She was very beautiful – tall, brown-eyed, dark haired".

He was speaking and the image, packed and folded neatly, was unfolding in front of him. Young and fast-moving, dashing and curious, Apprentice Gareth whose uniform made his blue eyes even brighter, had fallen in love with the Northrock Summoner's daughter, the first beauty, by the way. She'd reciprocated his feelings. They'd wanted to be together. But that would have been possible just in one of the two cases – either Mira would lived in the castle, which was less than likely, or Gareth would stayed in the village. The youth had been ready for it, but then Brey had found out. And he had been very much against. And so he had told. Gareth's exclamation about being ready to leave his rank had been met with a loud slap.

"Don't you dare think about it, boy! – Spellbinder roared. - I was bringing you up not for such stupid things! Two hours of duel practice!"

"…We weren't allowed to be together, - Gareth surfaced from his memories, - my teacher, Spellbinder Brey, was against this marriage. And Mira met another man later and…, - he looked at Ashka, who was listening to the story, with her apple forgotten one more time, - sorry. Sometimes I do forget you're only eight…"

Two years had passed since that evening when Gareth had run into the hall of the Council. Difficult to believe, seemed everything was happening yesterday. It seemed just yesterday he had been defending Ashka's chance to stay in the castle. One would say he had done it with a powerbolt in his hand and fire in his eyes. Oh well, there had been no powerbolt. But there had been fire. And there had been a great scandal; even the guards had opened the doors shyly, trying to find out whether help had been needed. Regents had been against – he had objected. He'd offered the arguments proving that he'd needed an Apprentice – they had objected. "Every rule should have an exception, - he had told, - who cares how old she is? The sooner we start, the earlier she becomes a Spellbinder!"

Apparently the Council had cared. Gareth hadn't been sure he would become a winner in this situation. And if Correon hadn't appeared in the hall that very moment, he wouldn't have, probably. Stubbornness multiplied by itself had given a wonderful result.

And then he'd thanked Correon many times, running back. And then Ashka had heard the great news and nearly had broken the stupid horse, moving on the bed quickly. And then child's hands hugged him again, and Gareth, who had been dreaming of a son once, realized that fate seemed to give him a daughter…

He was allowed to act according to his own decisions. How unexpected. And Marna, passing by him in the morning, gave him an approving wink.

Few days later there were more clothes in Gareth's room – some sets of Apprentice uniform and some sets of comfortable and sensible pants and shirts. However they had to wait for boots – the shoemaker said there would be much trouble with such a small foot size. So at first Ashka had to wear the boots she had had in the forest. She was too young for ceremonial clothes, so all the arrangements were finished for now.

They started from the very beginning – reading and writing. There was no necessity to rush. Now he had an Apprentice, the Council wasn't breathing in his back, asking him to make a decision, the delicate and inconspicuous support had helped him in the difficult situation. And Gareth felt – in his mind Brey became even some shades paler…

Eventually Ashka had stopped having nightmares. In several months. Warned by Stogar, young Spellbinder didn't rush the things. He didn't have to. That was the time when she asked him "where was mum lying". Saying no word, Gareth took the girl to Clayhill, deciding not to ignore her question and not to specify why she asked just about "mum" and not "dad". Velat and Lara were buried together; neither Ashka, nor Gareth said anything about it. The girl kept absolutely silent. Maybe he was the reason? Gareth took some steps back, thinking that nobody had abolished tactfulness and personal space.

"Perhaps dad loved mum more than me, - she said on the way to the castle, - he wanted me to follow him. He didn't know I want to live…"

"Suppose, he thought you three would reunite", - Gareth answered. Apparently, Ashka was happy with these words, because they didn't come back to that conversation. However, sometimes she did ask him to take her to the village again, to that place.

Their lessons weren't having very official style or time limits yet. Gareth wasn't an expert of children's behavior, so he decided the best way to make his little Apprentice interested was an attempt to make everything game-styled, a kind of story-telling, serious, on one hand, and breathtaking, on the other. Later he could see that he made a perfect decision. She was holding her breath, listening to extracts from the most boring chronicles, remade by his free narration. And sometimes she was laughing. Just think of it! Could the author of these rolls know a child would be laughing at the works?

Slowly she got used to him. But she stopped "Spellbindering" even sooner. He was Gareth – simply, decently, with no unnecessary ceremonies. And she… He called her Ashka. Firstly, she was still too young for the Apprentice rank, though they had their success, their lessons were hardly lessons now. And secondly, somehow he wanted to say her name more.

Of course, she wasn't understanding those books yet, those chronicles and journals smelling of book dust. But the young Spellbinder had already had a chance to realize – even if children don't get some things, they do memorize much more.

…He surfaced from his thoughts once again, feeling somebody was pulling his fridge delicately.

"Are you sleeping or thinking this way?" – Ashka was sitting next to his side, looking worriedly at the Spellbinder.

"Just thinking, - Gareth smiled, - sorry, it happened spontaneously".

Ashka took the book from his hands, which he was still holding.

"Were you thinking of your beloved one?"

The man smiled again. He had to be careful with her.

"Actually, I was thinking of you, - he knocked on the book cover with his fingernail, - seems we haven't finished with Spellbinder Ard. Ready to listen about dragons?"


	4. Story 4 Horse riding lesson (part one)

**Story 4. Horse riding lesson (part one). **

"**A**shka?"

Silence.

"Ashka!"

Silence.

"Where could she go to…"

Gareth had already been searching in the courtyard for about ten minutes, vainly trying to find his Apprentice. Seemed she had vanished into thin air. The Spellbinders passing by hadn't seen her, and that could mean he had to find out one more time what gap she'd chosen to hide in now.

"Ashka, I'll find you anyway. And we are to have this lesson!" – Spellbinder warned the air, looking around. He heard the quiet puffin from the crown of a tree behind his back.

"You could seek a little longer", - the voice was followed by its owner, climbing down the tree. One moment the girl took a misstep and fell down screaming.

"Well, what was Ginger Fox doing in the tree?" – Gareth asked calmly, catching her near the ground.

"Fox was hiding in the foxhole", - Ashka answered waiting for him to put her down on the ground.

Gareth sighed. During the previous week she had been bedraggled twice, she'd ripped very good pants and a sweater sleeve, she'd nearly lost her hair lock because her braid had been caught by a tree branch. And seemed that wasn't enough for her.

"Foxes do not live in the trees, - the man answered, cleaning his Apprentice and straightening her tunic covered with dust and cobweb, - haven't you forgotten that only yesterday Stogar was treating the scratches on your knees? Or did you decide to break your neck?"

"But I didn't break it…," - Ashka objected, standing his actions with patience.

"Just because I was nearby, - Gareth scolded, considering the result as something proper and taking the girl's hand, - let's go. Whether you want it or not, we have to start the lesson".

Ashka pouted her lips resentfully. Just think about it, she had no time to hide properly, and now she had to go to the lesson. Watching her with his side vision, Gareth admired it. It was so lovely, every time when she had been pouting her lips like this, - capriciously but very adorably. And speaking about the lesson…

Today the nine-year-old Apprentice had to mount a horse for the first time, so she was afraid of it. Of course she had seen these animals before, but it had always been from the distance, from the safe distance. Perhaps, the closest acquaintance she had with the statuette from Gareth's room, which had moved into her own accommodation and settled down at the window sill. And real horses – for now they were something unknown that made her fear.

When they came to the stable, Gareth and Ashka looked at the stalls, trying to choose the best option. Star was good, of course, its nature was calm and tender. How many times he took Ashka for a walk; the animal got used to one more nearly-rider. But now he didn't want to coddle his ward too much – she had to be able to deal with difficulties. Star had the lower grade in his triple evaluation system. "Soft". No, there had to be something harder, though not too hard.

Ashka waited patiently for him to make a choice. Sure, all the horses here belonged to some Spellbinders or Apprentices. But it was permitted to take any of them for the lesson – that was an unspoken rule.

Which one? Noon, belonging to Larius? Or Rock of Olin? No, that was too much, not just Apprentices, but sometimes even Spellbinders preferred to stay away from them and not to saddle without a good reason. The nature was "Hard", too hard.

Then Gareth's glance reached the end of the left row. Hm, that could be interesting… Rook, whose owner was Lukan… Very "Medium", with some temper, but he hardly had to expect any problems. Stubborn, oh yes. They said at court that Rook was that very case when a horse inherited its owner's nature. Of course, they said it in Lukan's absence.

"Let's go, we've found what we looked for", - with these words he led Ashka to the stall.

"Will I succeed?"

"Everybody does. And you're the best, so you'll succeed for sure", - Gareth helped the girl to mount and ordered to hold the mane.

"But that is so difficult…, - Ashka squeezed the coarse mane fearfully, hardly understanding what use could it bring, - the most difficult, probably, yes? And what if the horse does something?"

"Remember something, while we're here, - Gareth looked at her upward, - one - you always mount from the left side. Two – you never go behind a horse".

"Why not to go behind?" – Ashka asked immediately.

The man stopped short. On the one hand, the truth about hooves could frighten the girl. On the other – forewarned is forearmed. And horse riding skill was a part of education program.

"Horse may get scared and kick, - he said and added quickly, - come on, you'll know the rest in process".

At first they moved slowly through the courtyard, going to the arch, feeling the glances of Spellbinders and Apprentices passing by. Someone looked with surprise, someone – with approval. Gareth led Rook by the reins, keeping his face neutral and meeting the glances with a nod and a smile. Sun was shining from behind his back and he saw their triple shadow on the ground – himself with gracefully tousled hair, as usual; calmly walking horse and Ashka on its back, whose tensed shoulders showed how anxious she was.

He couldn't say they had any special progress or success during that first lesson. They walked through the forest a little and then they returned. Rook didn't even show its well-known temper. Anyway, that was the beginning…


	5. Story 5 Astronomy for the night

**Story 5. Astronomy for the night. **

"**Y**ou are so sad today… What happened?"

The girl was sitting in front of the mirror, worriedly looking at the man combing her hair. Standing behind her, Gareth realized he'd lost his vigilance. The day wasn't very good. Apparently that was written on his face.

"Let's say these are the difficulties of adult life", - he said vaguely.

In fact everything was much more specific and unpleasant. A group of Marauders had tried to make an ambush on the way to the castle, where the guards were leading the cart with contribution. This time the barbarians didn't succeed – they were caught and taken to the castle. Gareth was standing at the upper viewing platform, so he could see everything happening in the courtyard. A group of people including several women was taken to the dungeon. And later the Council got together to decide their future.

"We have nothing to eat! You've taken everything we had!" – he heard that phrase perfectly, even from the distance. Gareth knew they were perpetrators, and in such case the Council wouldn't ceremony. The Wastelands – that was a solution to all the problems, way to escape a stalemate. However, something did scratch his soul. Perhaps it was his eternal kindness, called fatal once? Or the fact that a very young woman shouted out that phrase?

"When you're sad I am sad too, - Ashka turned around when he finished braiding her hair, - so now you won't read for me?"

He had a desperate need to get any distraction. And she didn't have to deal with problems that were yet too complicated for her. He took a proper pause, putting the hairbrush on the table.

"Did you bring the book?"

"Sure! – The girl exclaimed, running to her bed. - Here it is!"

He looked at the cover, stunned. "Ancient legends of constellations".

"Ashka, we've already read it…"

"So what? – the Apprentice asked. - I want more!"

Her look was unexceptional. And no matter how difficult astronomy was for her, they had already started it! And the fact that she had listened to that book meant nothing. Gareth could read the dragon stories for lots of times!

"All right, deal, - he couldn't win that battle, especially when her look was followed by pouted lips, - what story does Ginger Fox want tonight?"

"The one about extinguished starts, - the girl said, smiling triumphantly, - and tonight I am not Ginger Fox".

"So who are you?" – The whole situation amused him.

"Tonight I am a Spellbinder! – Ashka exclaimed, putting the plates of her imaginary powersuit together and making a very threatening, in her opinion, posture. - And I demand the fairytale!"

"So that's it? – with his face defiantly indifferent, he put the book away on the pillow and went forward. But reaching the necessary distance he lifted Ashka. - You are a Spellbinder? No, you are a little capricious girl that doesn't want to sleep. You are the Fox, ginger and cunning and you are turning me around your little finger!"

Ashka screamed happily, clinging to his neck and laughing, while Gareth was spinning around, holding her.

"But you will read me anyway, won't you?" – waiting for him to stop, she looked into Spellbinder's eyes, flapping her eyelashes.

"Only if you promise to sleep!" – he said calmly, feeling that a little more – and he would start laughing too. How did it happen he felt so easy with her? Why even problems were stepping back to the shadow for some time, when he looked into these green eyes, when she was hugging him like she did now?

Ashka got under the covers, shaking up her pillow and looking at him expectantly. Her slender fingers were playing with the braid end, while her thoughts were somewhere in the distance, at the necessary chapter pages.

"Once upon a time Spellbinders did look at the night sky and saw some stars were absent, - sitting on a chair next to the bed, Gareth took his already familiar role, - the wise men couldn't say what happened. Where had the stars gone? Why were they absent? And that was what had happened…"


	6. Story 6 Horse riding lesson (part two)

**Story 6.** **Horse riding lesson (part two). **

"**C**ould you make the circle bigger? I feel giddy".

"All right". .

Standing in the center of the walking court, Gareth loosened the lunge a little, giving Star more free space. To tell the truth, those present were in no mood, no mood at all. This morning he stumbled at the stairs, running two steps at a time, and hit his elbow so that the arm was still aching. Ashka was tired though tried not to show it, somehow transferring her horse from trot to gallop during the hour. Small hands were squeezing the reins as her last hope for salvation. Speaking about Star, seemed like it was in no mood for a lesson, behaving with little patience with its owner and his ward. As ill luck would have it, the weather started worsening, clear sky became clouded, and wind appeared from nowhere.

"It is too stubborn today, Gareth, - Ashka was at her breaking point, - what do I do?"

"Firstly, do not become limp, - he came closer, winding the lunge carefully in order to protect his elbow, - you will never benefit from it, especially with an animal. Secondly, all horses are different. One may be really good and fawning, other may even kick. And you need to be able to ride any of them. And thirdly, - he touched Ashka's chin, looking into her eyes, - ambition and obstinacy – these are the features of a true Spellbinder. You say the horse is stubborn? So be more stubborn, aim for a win!"

The man pulled her braid end lightly.

"You think horse riding is the most difficult? You've already started to succeed in the difficult. We do geography, history, right?"

Ashka nodded slowly.

"And here you just gave to overcome your fear and hesitation a little. I know they still hide in you, - Spellbinder smiled warmly to his Apprentice, - but we are to prove we are more stubborn, deal?"

"Deal, - the girl smiled too, feeling more confident, - thank you for it".

"It's my pleasure, - he returned to the circle center, unwinding the lunge, - let's show who is the future Spellbinder here!"


	7. Story 7 Changes

**Story 7. Changes. **

**A**s time went by, there came changes in everything. In six months Larius left his post in the Council, making his former Apprentice and now Spellbinder Lukan a new Regent. On the one hand, that was giving the Council some steadiness and peace. On the other – everyone knew too well that Larius had been raising Lukan for his purpose and benefit, giving him a huge part of his extravagant harshness. However, unlike his teacher, Lukan was able to control these features much better.

Of course, Gareth didn't have to be bothered with such details. Who was he? One of many Spellbinders living in the castle and obeying the Council. One Regent goes – another comes to stay, that mechanism had been worked through during the centuries. One couldn't say the character traits of a new Regent bothered everybody too often. But in this case… In this case they really did.

He thought about it for some time, waiting for the court to calm down after the Crowning ceremony and the celebration that was following. Then he returned to his everyday matters – teaching and upbringing of his ward. Of course Ashka was dealing well with science, though not as well as with history, maybe. Apparently she was to become a theorist, not practical person. Along with it he had to admit she was giving him enough trouble. Last month, early in the morning, Gareth had been shaving in front of the mirror, thinking of whether he had to have a breakfast at first or to send someone for Ashka and then arrange breakfast for two. Then somebody knocked at the door, slowly and timidly. That was a wondrous sight at his doorstep – two guards, shifting from one foot to another shyly. Ashka was standing between two men, with her head lowered guiltily.

"Forgive us, Spellbinder, - one of the guards started, - the girl tried to climb up the Tower and hide inside a flying ship".

Gareth watched the men with their eyes downcast, and then looked at his Apprentice. Well, that was the speed… He didn't even put on his tunic yet, and she had already put on her uniform and arranged a new adventure before the breakfast. And according to the fact that her blue pants and sweater became rather dirty, she had been on the half-way to success.

"Nice work, gentlemen, thank you for your vigilance", - nodding, he gripped the girl's shoulder gently but firmly, and pulled her into the room. Put on his tunic slowly, tying up the cord on its back. Then combed his hair slowly. Ashka was still standing at the same place where he'd left her, silent and very unhappy.

"Do you always call the guards "gentlemen"?" – Finally, she broke the silence first.

"Sometimes, - Gareth said shortly, straightening his clothes, - and what's the matter?"

"But… these are… guards", - Ashka mumbled perplexedly.

Astonished, Gareth looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, what are these views? I don't care what place or position does one have. And I shouldn't also, you hear me? – Seeing her green eyes were still perplexed and confused, he came closer. - Anyway, what were you doing near a Tower? Aren't all the trees and nooks enough for you? You aren't allowed to go to the flying ships".

"But I want to! – Ashka exclaimed. - I've already seen all the nooks".

The man smirked.

"I do not doubt. However, prohibition is prohibition".

"Why?"

"Because. And stop arguing. Or else we are to have not one chemistry lesson but two".

Nevertheless, they had only one chemistry that morning. The first half of it Ashka was pouting and puffing like an angry dragon, though, during the second half she finally got interested in the book and the chapter. As ill luck would have it, the text was about explosives and their combinations. And seeing such an enthusiasm of his juvenile Apprentice taking the quill, Gareth thought he'd better lock up the cabinet with reagents for some time…

As time went by not everything was perfect. And not always. Ashka didn't even reach the transitional age yet, but there were times when she made him take deep breaths and calm himself. Easy, Gareth, easy, that was nothing. Yes, she did try to take your powersuit off the struts and put it on, so she fell down from a chair and got her nose smashed. Yes, she hid behind a statue in the corner of a corridor and scared two maidservants, suddenly jumping out in front of them. Yes, for the umpteenth time the guards caught her on the outer wall merlons of the castle, and she miraculously didn't fell from such a height. Of course he punished her for some things, then he was getting a dish called "pouted lips and veeery resentful eyes". However it was useless to overdo with punishments – the age when a child longs for extreme is beyond anyone's power. Even beyond Spellbinders' laws.

And then, so suddenly and unexpectedly, she was twelve. And Gareth realized – moment of the truth was coming, very soon a child would turn into a young girl. So he had to face a difficult and rather awkward conversation…

How did it happen that the time had come? And why so fast? The man was confused by this thought, because he had no idea of what to do. Apparently he had to prepare and to rehearse his possible speech in order not to feel like a gawk in the decisive moment. For nearly a week he was beating around the bush. The time was very proper, the moment of the truth didn't come yet, he was sure. There were no signs or any changes in Ashka's behavior. But nobody could say how much longer he had to wait… And the conversations like these – Gareth had no doubts – should happen in advance, "before", not "after". She would understand when the moment came.

Of course, he would be faint-heartedly happy to let somebody more suitable have this mission. Stogar, for example. He was a court healer, he could speak about anything. Or Marna, who became a kind of a friend for Gareth. Marna was a girl too, she got a better notion of such delicate things. But it happened so that young Apprentice was ill at that time; she had had a fever for several weeks. Stogar prohibited everyone to see her, except Tark. The man was allowed just after coming from orders and angry exclamations to kind pleas, so unusual for him. Apparently, Tark did have a heart and a sol, though he tried not to show it.

So, Marna and Stogar couldn't be his options. And it seemed he had to deal with the issue…

"What do I do?" – Gareth sighed, biting his lip. Then he looked at himself. What to do? To take off the powersuit for a start! What a fool! He would look really nice, going to Ashka in his full armor and speaking of what maturing means for a girl. And why didn't the Council think of including the course for young fathers in education program?

Later, remembering his speech, Gareth couldn't stop smiling, seeing himself, as he had tried not to become redder than his tunic. He remembered Ashka listening to him with her eyes wide-opened. He remembered his delicate wording and finally said: "Well, this is how it usually happens". He'd been sitting on a bench, next to her, carefully listening to that dangerous silence that followed his words. Ashka watched his face for several moments.

"Really?"

And nothing more. Just like this. Feeling as a trembling hare for so long, Gareth got confused even more than before their conversation. And he was almost ready to ask her to explain such a short answer, when suddenly he saw Ashka was smiling.

"Oh yes…"

And they both laughed, feeling so easy and simple. And Gareth, hugged by the girl, with her head on his shoulder, thought for an umpteenth time what a strange and amazingly-unusual creature a child was…

Eventually he allowed her to go to the flying ship. Not immediately, no, in several months, after he had pressed the Council enough and got their strained permission. Perhaps that was also an event he was to remember forever. Gareth remembered a cool spring morning, when they went to the Tower. How they climbed up the narrow cold stairs. As entering the ship Ashka was looking around, trying to see everything, at once, within a second. He sat in the pilot's seat and the girl came to his right side immediately, watching the starting process closely as if it was the most interesting experiment and she was a pioneer.

"Ah, we're flying!" – she exclaimed, seeing the castle wall disappearing somewhere below. Gareth smiled. He had always thought of the flights more than calmly. Perhaps because Brey had never seen anything special there, and had never tried to instill the beauty of it in his Apprentice. What is it – flying up in the sky? Nothing important, sitting in the ship, holding the levers, watching the direction…

And just now he was able to understand, to feel how exciting it really was. Somewhere inside, in his heart, a process was starting. Stogar could be more specific, using his professional point of view. But Gareth preferred just to get the senses, absorbing them like a sponge. The endless blue sky with lather-like clouds, trees with the leaves, which obeyed the wind, castle looking like a toy, people, so small and funny, smooth surface of green fields… That was freedom, true freedom.

"Oh yes, we do! – Spellbinder answered feeling like a happy boy. - Come closer!"

He put her hand onto the right lever and covered with his palm.

"Remember this moment, Ashka. Remember it forever".

And they flew. Above Clayhill, above the rocks, across Orchard, then along Valaphire. Ashka observed the surroundings with interest, looking for familiar tracks and trying to remember the sights. She would be ready to caper and fly even higher, if the ship's limits could afford it. And it seemed for Gareth that together with his restless Apprentice, who had always longed for adventures, he became twenty years younger, once again being a madcap…


	8. Story 8 News

**Story 8. News. **

"**Y**ou know, a child was born in one family of Easthill, - Gareth said after the lesson, taking the books away from the table together with his Apprentice, - today I went through the village, the woman was sitting near the house, holding her baby".

"And what was then?" – Ashka asked, putting the books on a shelf.

"I was the first Spellbinder, passing by, - Gareth smiled, - she saw me. Then her husband appeared and they asked me to give their boy a name. So tomorrow we go to Easthill for a ceremony".

"I wouldn't want. Is it so necessary?" – The girl asked carefully.

"Yes, love, it is necessary. I need to be accompanied because the event is official".

Thoughtfully Ashka winded her braid end round her finger.

"All right, I go. Did you decide how to name this boy?"

"You see…, - Gareth tousled his hair, confused, - that's the problem. In such cases Spellbinders usually name children in honour of themselves. But I feel uncomfortable with it and I don't like it. So, to tell the truth, I have no idea of what to do".

"Name him Larius, - Ashka offered but then, seeing her teacher's rolled eyes, she added quickly, - well, yes, too much honour for the former Regent".

Pretending he was coughing, Gareth tried to hide his smile. Despite her age, she was sometimes speaking as an adult.

"Well… well, then I don't know, - the girl looked around the room as if trying to find a hint from the walls and furniture, - hey, why don't you name him Gryvon?"

Where did she get this name from? Spellbinder stopped for a moment, remembering. Oh yes, the first decade of Alegas rule, son of Larius the Great. According to history, the servant of Alegas, a young man named Gryvon, had saved Spellbinder's life during the Marauders' invasion, this was how he'd got the right to become an Apprentice. And later Alegas and Gryvon had been better friends than even two brothers…"

"Little Gryvon… brightly, perfectly, with character…, - the man came closer, hugging his Apprentice, - you know, Ashka, you definitely have taste!"


	9. Story 9 Misstep

**Story 9. Misstep. **

**W**hen did he realize they started looking at her? And not just looking but staring, actually? It happened quite suddenly, one fine day. It seemed, they were walking through the corridor, right after the duel practice. Ashka, who had won half of the duels that day, followed slightly behind Gareth, beaming with delight. She'd started wearing a powersuit recently, so it was still too big for her. Nevertheless, that couldn't stop her from feeling like a center of the whole world.

Passing by the library, they met a group of Apprentices going from there. Boys and girls bowed to the Spellbinder, smiling. Gareth nodded and then, walking a little further, he realized that at least two of the group – Lans and Fern – were smiling and looking not at him, but apparently at Ashka who followed.

"What's wrong?" – his Apprentice asked seeing the Spellbinder had stopped and turned around.

"Huh? No, it's nothing…, - Gareth shook his head, piercing their silhouettes with his eyes, - I'm seeing things, probably".

Of course, afterwards he could see that wasn't his imagination. Boys were following Ashka with their eyes rather often; he had a chance to witness it several times. And every time he was facing that situation, Gareth increased his pace anxiously, quickly going away together with Ashka. Holly Regents, she was only fourteen! What glances could there be?!

Watching the look of another "Lans" Gareth was turning to his ward. And felt astonished. Was it really her, a child only yesterday, and so pretty now? Was he really seeing again something bold in her eyes? Was it really her, smiling, firing a powerbolt as strong as grown Spellbinders did? And was it really her, for whom the court tailor would start making a first ballroom dress soon?

Interesting… Could it be the same way, if he was just a teacher, a Spellbinder, teaching, encouraging or punishing? If she'd appeared in the castle just a couple of years ago, the same as everyone else – a little naughty, having no knowledge at all, but curious, ready to live in strict discipline… Maybe. And maybe she would never appeared here. If he hadn't gotten that incredible unexpected offer from Correon…

Gareth felt much more responsibility than an ordinary Spellbinder for an Apprentice. Eventually, she'd been living in the castle not for "a couple of years" but longer. And she'd become closer to him than any other potential child, which could take her place. One moment Gareth felt a little sad, giving the parchment with a dress sketch to the tailor. Apparently it was always this way with parents. It had to be this way. Yes, she was Ashka for him, yes, he was Gareth for her, and Spellbinder in other people's presence. However that couldn't make him have less responsibility. And it couldn't reduce his attachment that became so strong after eight years.

That is why these glances scared him, on the one hand. On the other – a young girl would always be followed by such glances. That was normal. And that would continue. Of course, he could try to control it somehow. But could he stop or prevent it?

"Gareth, why did he look at me like that?" – Ashka whispered once, when it was their turn to go to Rivertown. Going through the market place, Ashka felt a young guy who was putting wicker baskets on the table watched her. His glance was short, careful but very interested.

"He liked you, suppose", - the man answered.

"And it… is it good or bad?" – Ashka continued. Spellbinder looked at her, blushing cheeks, question in her eyes… What to say? They couldn't not to look.

"It is normal, - he said finally, - and natural. You need to get used to it".

Perhaps he didn't need to say that last phrase? Or was he actually right? Once, after that ride, he saw Ashka and Fern at the viewing platform. Pretending they were in their powersuits they trained to fire powerbolts. And they were standing rather close to each other.

He wouldn't mind, especially seeing that the results of her duel practice improved. Fern was a courteous one, he succeeded in science. But Niva's Apprentice – and Gareth felt it - adhered to a position called "Let's prove who can do more?". And Gareth knew, according to his own experience, that an attempt to overdo Ashka could cause something unpredictable…

She was riding a horse and dueling more and more often, seeing that Fern did it better which couldn't satisfy her. And, though Gareth wasn't against duel practice, he didn't like Ashka's irrepressible desire to outdo a more skilled rider. She was choosing the most stubborn horses, really "Hard".

"Why does his horse riding worry you? – Gareth asked, perplexed, seeing his Apprentice was riding Rock to death, leaving several obstacles behind. - I must confess Fern is good. But I usually tell you the same".

"I don't need "good", - Ashka said shortly, passing by, - I need "excellent"! You always speak about it".

Perhaps, that moment Gareth felt a pang of anxiety for the first time, caused by his intention to give his Apprentice some good ambition.

"At least let the animal have its rest, - he nodded at foamy Rock, - look, the lessons are finished for today. Only you are staying at the area".

"I haven't finished".

"Ashka, have some patience, - he tried to appeal to her reason, - you can hardly succeed during one night. And Holly Regents, don't ride Rock so much".

"You prohibit?" – Surprised, she looked over her shoulder but stopped the horse.

Gareth took a deep breath.

"Yes, Apprentice, I do prohibit, - he said calmly waiting for her to dismount, - and don't look at me like this. Now you are my Apprentice and I have a right to prohibit the things I don't consider as proper or save".

Servants went to them from the stable, ready to take Rock's reins.

"And speaking about Fern…", - Gareth didn't have a chance to finish.

"What? What about Fern? Order me not to love?"

Stunned, the man looked at his ward. Seeing with his sight vision the servants were reaching, he gave them a signal not to come close.

"Firstly, watch your tone, Apprentice. The lesson isn't finished yet, - Spellbinder said coldly, - and secondly, what is this "love"? Isn't it too early?"

Ashka blushed.

"I…"

"Look at this horse and how it looks like, - he nodded at the tired exhausted animal, - how can one let this happen? Now I don't think you're able to love…"

There was silence for some seconds. Ashka was staring at the teacher with her eyes wide-opened. He was looking at her, already having regrets about the said.

"In this case, - Ashka hissed slowly, - I don't have to love you too…"

He didn't expect it, loosening the reins and taking a step back. Considering it as moral defeat, Ashka mounted immediately, giving the horse a twister…

"Wait! Stop! – he shouted, running forward. - Guards, close the gates!"

He was running after her, hoping to get in time. Closing the gates wouldn't take much time. And, Regents put together, why were they opened anyway?! But that evening, that moment everything was formed this way: the gates were opened, the stable was to close to the gates, the guards were too slow, confused by what happened. And Ashka… she was too fast, rushing out through the gates at the last moment.

"Open again, what are you waiting for?" – Gareth exclaimed, running to the stable. His body moved faster than his brain was analyzing those movements. Too little time, too little time… Where could she go at nightfall? He didn't have time to think of such silly things as a powersuit or saddling Star. However leading the horse from the stable, he remembered he was still having the Eyestone.

"Regents, this is Gareth. Ashka ran away from the castle, I have to find her, - he said quickly, grasping the mane with one hand, - and I really need help…"

Undoubtedly, that was his misstep. Why, why did he start speaking of love? He didn't care about Fern, but couldn't he start his speech in some other way, not so harshly?

"Ashka, where are you?" – Gareth called once again, watching the empty forest. Luckily, it wasn't too dark yet, at least he, who hadn't thought neither of the powersuit, nor of a torch, could see the surroundings quite clearly.

Crazy madcap… Oh let her be all right! Gareth was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He wanted to find and tell her off properly, he wanted to make sure she was alright… He wanted to punish himself with foul language for an action, less than appropriate for a Spellbinder. And everything – at the same time.

"Ashka!"

What if she'd gone to some village? What if there had been Marauders nearby? Gareth felt scared by his own thoughts, and then he heard some sounds – a horse neighed in the distance and a moment later his Eyestone started working.

"Gareth, this is Niva. We're already in the forest, where are you?"

"Still far, - the man answered, - because I don't see you. And it seems I heard something".

"Be careful, please. We move forward".

He closed the Eyestone and rushed to where the sound was heard. Where was it? Where? He couldn't imagine it!

"Ashka!"

There was a dark spot behind the nearest tree. The man turned around and froze. Rock was walking towards him, slowly, tiredly. Exhaustedly. And there was no Ashka on its back…

"Oh no…"

He came closer taking the reins. And then the Eyestone sounded again:

"Gareth, what happened? Did you find her?"

"I…, - looking around one more time, he saw a group of lights coming from the castle road, - no, I found only the horse. There're no signs of Ashka. And at last I can see you…"

Perhaps that was the most tormenting and most dreadful memory of Gareth. Dividing, a group of Spellbinders and Apprentices started combing the forest, having no idea of where and how long they should search.

"Let's begin assuming that she couldn't go further than Rivertown", - Niva reasoned aloud, sending Fern with Rock back to the castle.

"I informed the Summoners of Clayhill and Westfield, in case she goes to the village", - Correon said, joining them.

Gareth nodded, looking at his companions with gratitude. There was no strength for talking. Just find, find her by all means…

"We'll find her, Gareth, - Niva touched his elbow as if she was able to read that thought, - for sure".

Their ways parted again – the woman went to Easthill camp, Correon went along Valaphire in order to get to Aiden this way and further if it was necessary".

The one good thing was that neither rain, nor fog became an obstacle for the searching. The weather was nice. Gareth went forward, feeling that a little more – and his heart would explode.

"Ashka!"

A branch crunched under someone's feet. The man turned his horse at once. About ten steps from him, near a big pile of leaves there was Ashka, standing in dirty uniform, protecting her right arm.

He didn't understand how he was able to dismount, catching his breath. A strange feeling that this had already happened, that he had already seen it, the same way, in the same forest, made his heart aching.

He reached the place where she was standing in two long steps.

"Are you alright? Tell me, are you alright?!"

A nod. If he didn't watch her so closely, he probably wouldn't consider it as an answer.

"I fell from the horse, - Ashka said quietly, lowering her head, - my arm hurts".

He looked at her dirty sweater and a tunic. Then very carefully he examined her shoulder. Luckily, there was no fracture or dislocation.

"Just a bruise, nothing serious, - the man said, only now realizing what a boiling stream of anger was inside him, - crazy, naughty, whimsical, rebellious girl! – Breath in. - Are you tired of living?! – One more breath in. - Two weeks without horse riding! No duels, no flights. Only chemistry, astronomy, geography and…, - one more breath in, then quieter, - … and I'm to lose my mind with you…"

Only now the invisible hand released his heart… Only now he was understanding the nightmare he'd gone though.

"Forgive me…, - he pulled Ashka closer and hugged, avoiding any contact with her arm, closing his eyes, - forgive me for those words of mine, please".

His Apprentice mumbled something, but he didn't get the phrase said into his tunic.

"What?"

"You too… forgive me, - Ashka repeated with hesitation, looking into his eyes, - forgive me for scaring you. And for saying I don't love you. I do love you, honestly!"

She hugged Gareth with her left arm, leaning her cheek against the shining symbol on his tunic. She said nothing neither about the definitions he gave, nor about the promised punishment. She was standing silent, standing and hugging him. And everything was clear.

"Spellbinders, this is Gareth, - embracing his found Apprentice with one hand, he took the Eyestone with the other and opened it, - it's alright, I've found her…"

Of course the Council gave her a good scolding later. And she got the old powersuits cleaning from regents, in addition to her two weeks with no favorite pastime. But that was "later". And no matter how strange that could seem, she faced the scolding in the hall of the Council absolutely calmly, with a neutral face and no words. Gareth, who was present but not interfering, felt happy one moment. Not because of the double punishment, no. But because that terrible night became a step forward in some way. They both were scared, they both had made a mistake. And the young Apprentice realized there was something she'd better not to do. It probably wasn't the most welcome lesson, though it was learnt well…


	10. Story 10 Questions

**Story 10. Questions. **

"**T**ell me, why did Spellbinders stop challenging one another?"

Gareth felt surprised. He had explained her the policy of Imola the Peaceful who never liked the duels, quite long ago, during history lessons. And as far as he could remember that never caused any questions… Though here it was, watching him piloting the flying ship and talking about something, Ashka suddenly started it.

"Because once they had been considered illegal, - Spellbinder said, turning the levers, - as you remember, about sixty years ago Imola tried to abolish duels, but she couldn't change the Honor Code, supported by most Spellbinders. Nevertheless, sorting things out with the help of powerbolt had become less and less frequent. And then it stopped".

"I do remember that, - Ashka nodded impatiently, - but why were duels gone actually? Didn't Spellbinder argue, disturb one another?"

"Of course they did, - the man said, - now it also happens. Society can not consist only of virtues. However, all the problems should be solved in an absolutely peaceful way".

"Really?"

"Undoubtedly. Just imagine, if Spellbinders start dueling every day, trying to find out who's right and who's wrong, what do peasant say for that? What a model will we be for simple people? If the authorities are unable to solve their problem verbally, with no violence, should these authorities be trusted? Should anyone obey to them?"

Thoughtful, Ashka touched the powerstone controlling wheel with her finger.

"Are there any exceptions?"

"There are always some exceptions, - Gareth shrugged, - but I won't recall any certain example".

"Even if trying?" – Ashka squatted next to the pilot's seat, looking at Gareth innocently.

"Oh why is it bothering you so much…", - he scolded playfully.

"I'm just interested".

There was Clayhill Tower in the distance, where they were going.

"During the rule of Imola there lived a Spellbinder in the castle, a namesake of mine, by the way. Once he was imprudent to accuse the other Spellbinder's Apprentice of lie. I don't remember the certain details. Though seemed the Apprentice was right. And then this youth challenged the Spellbinder, considering the accusation too insulting. Most supported him. Even Imola and the Regents made an exception that time".

The flying ship started landing onto the platform.

"And what happened next?" – Ashka asked.

"You'd better try to find it out in the library, kid, - Gareth stood up, laughing, - I really don't remember what was in the end…"


	11. Story 11 Glorification

**Story 11. Glorification. **

**T**hat was an ordinary autumn day. Too ordinary to expect any unusual extraordinary events from it. Another morning came to the castle. Quiet and rather mild, one would say. Nothing interesting.

Gareth was rather absent-minded, trying to whisk away the sleep from his face with some cold water. The last events were mixing in his head: two horses had foaled nearly at the same time, a land-slip had happened at the old mine and people had had a narrow escape, and in addition to that a recent Orchard encounter against Marauders… His hand wavered one moment. The man winced looking at his reflection – the razor left a cut on his chin.

Then someone knocked at his door. Thinking of who could it be, Gareth pressed his handkerchief to the cut and opened.

"Good morning, Spellbinder, - the servant at the doorstep bowed, - Regents asked me to inform you they are waiting in the hall of the Council".

That was unexpected. Yesterday evening there were neither requests, nor orders; no plans from the Regents. At least he wasn't aware of them. What was so important that made them gather together early in the morning?

"On my way", - Gareth nodded, closing the door and finishing with his dressing. He still had two hours before Ashka's lesson. Whatever they had, there was enough time. Thinking so, Gareth left his room, having no idea the servant's morning appearance was taking him to the great changes…

The Regents gathered in the hall looked strange. They seemed dressed as usual, according to the rules, serious, imperturbable… but something was wrong. Observing the room and people there – Jal next to the window, with arms folded on his chest, Lukan sitting at the table, holding a rolled parchment, Tark walking nearby – Gareth realized they had been discussing something before he entered. And the discussion was not one of the pleasant.

"Good morning, Gareth, - finishing the mutual greetings, Tark made an inviting gesture, - please, home here".

The Spellbinder came closer, looking at the three of them, one by one, and having no idea yet, why were these strange pauses, as if with some guilt, these almost careful glances attracting his attention? What had happened there?

"As you know, Regent Jal has been planning to leave his post for quite a long time, - was it his imagination or did Lukan really emphasized "a long time"? – Unfortunately he has no successor. His Apprentice died a couple of years ago, so there's no one to succeed the post".

"Oh yes…, - Jal smirked, standing near the wall, - there's no one, indeed".

Tark looked at him quite unambiguously, silencing.

"We put our heads together and made a decision…", - Lukan said.

"The unanimous one", - Tark added, still looking at Jal.

"You're to become a new Council member, Gareth, - Lukan finished in a very unexceptional manner, and then unrolled the parchment, - this is your assignment letter. A signature below is required".

For a moment he thought he had misheard. That he was still daydreaming in front of the mirror, with a razor in his hand. But it was the next moment when his frozen senses thawed out, his heart somersaulted, something started drumming in his ears and his eyes widened.

"Is it… true?" – he reached the table slowly, looking at the parchment that was so close.

"As true as I am able to think straight and make right decisions, - laughing quietly, Tark nodded at the letter, - everything is in this document, read it".

Swallowing, Gareth obeyed. He had all the reasons to believe but he couldn't. That was too strange, too… unexpected? Fast? And only taking the roll in his hands, feeling two a little crumpled paper edges with his fingertips, seeing his name written in small round hand of Jal, the Head of the Council, noticing three signatures of various sizes under the text, he finally realized. There was no delusion. No dream. No fantasy. There was truth.

"The decision was unanimous, - Jal left his place near the wall, making him come back to the reality, - well, congratulations on your honorary assignment".

Holding a quill, Gareth nodded calmly, facing both this glance and the crooked smile. Regent's dislike of Gareth was long and hardly understandable. Sometimes it could almost vanish, and sometimes it was nearly visible. Child rivalry, multiplied by envy, was still bothering many years later. Gareth couldn't understand what was it in his life that made Jal being envious. Achievements? As anyone else's. Appearance? In his opinion – quite ordinary. Private life or a good teacher? Oh no, that won't do… Speaking about court career, Jal had been nimbler with it and became a Regent earlier.

However, that was the fact. The dislike was obvious. Even now, pretending he didn't get it, Gareth smiled in order to stay within the bounds of decency.

"Thank you".

Quill squeaking, ink letters, each following was making this weird truth even more obvious, an oblique monogram below his name…

"The Crowning ceremony is to take place in a week, - Tark said taking the parchment, - and then you shall enter upon your new duties, Regent Gareth".

As if half asleep he received the other two Council members' congratulations, nodding to their smiles. Jal, standing aside, pretended he was examining his nail. But no one paid attention to that. Now the Spellbinder, being somewhere in the fog between his familiar status and the one he was to take, ignored such details. Stepping behind the hall doors, he went upstairs, listening to his steps reviving echo. It seemed only now he was shaving in front of the mirror, right?

And then, walking to the next level, Gareth stopped. No, that wasn't just some truth… That was TRUTH! Something that, in Brey's opinion, he could never reach, according to the lack of tactfulness, average achievements and the foolishness never leaving the head of the Apprentice. Something he'd dreamed about but was afraid to confess. A welcome beginning of new life.

"Regent Gareth…", - the man mumbled trying this new phrase and the sound of it. Then he suddenly remembered. Ashka! He had to tell her, right now, immediately, not waiting for the lesson! Her in the first place!

Running upstairs he rushed to his Apprentice.

Perhaps he was really absent-minded that morning and was understanding the situation rather slowly. Perhaps that wasn't good, but what could he do? He had to get used to, as soon as possible, to these new things. Only later, when two levels were left behind and he knocked at the wooden door, opening, when an explanation for his early visit was followed by: "I am so happy for you!" and Ashka nearly hung on his neck and Gareth hugged her – right then the ghosts of the past did finally freed him, symbolizing the refreshing. Joy that he was decent and they understood it, that Brey had been wrong, that he had a little person nearby to share this silly bright mixture of thoughts fragments – that joy overwhelmed his soul, inspiring.

Peasants were informed, preparing for the traditional three-day celebrations. The castle was also in preparations – scarlet flags with golden Spellbinder symbols were hung out in the throne room and the ballroom. Servants were cleaning the floors, polishing the dishes and furniture. The future Head of the Council was moving into his predecessor's room, more spacious and beautiful. Spellbinders and Apprentices were preparing the ceremonial clothes for the ball after the crowning. Every Regent's glorification consisted of familiar rituals and procedures. Every time it was well-known ten steps ahead. But now all the ceremonies seemed new. Now all these rituals were about his own glorification…

"You look like a nervous Apprentice, - Ashka giggled, finishing with his powersuit bracelets polishing, - what is so special in this Regency?"

"Don't you see? – Gareth answered with his own question. - This is something one should reach out for. Power that gives you a chance to do something, to affect the events and probably change them for the better!"

"I am far from politics", - Ashka shrugged, watching the result of her work.

Gareth laughed.

"However you are to succeed my post in time, so you'd better learn now. Come here, - taking the girls hand, he bowed courteously, inviting her for a short promenade, - once Regentess Ashka will make a great court career".

"The Regentess" waved it off.

"Stop it, - she turned around, making a small hop along with her partner, - you shall think of your own glory, not mine. Tomorrow they all will gather for you! The whole day will be for you! Long live regent Gareth!"

The man finished the promenade, bowing with a hand against his chest.

"You know… What I will do right after becoming a Council member?" – his blue eyes were shining with warm cheerful sparks.

"Oh what?" – The Apprentice asked in the same manner, sitting down on a chair.

"First of all I'll let Spellbinders marry to people from another class. And bring up children from villages, if it happens so, - Gareth said enthusiastically, crossing the room in half-dance steps, - I'm fed up with these exceptions from rules. We need new rules! It's time for changing them and changing ourselves".

Ashka watched her inspired mentor looking forward to future changes.

"You are to be a wonderful Regent".

"You think so? – stopping for a moment, he looked at the girl. - Sorry, suppose, I am to vainglorious for a Regent…"

"That's not the worst of the weaknesses, - his Apprentice objected, - especially if the Regent is good".

Gareth smiled shyly.

"Oh, I'd love to be like this. Very much. Perhaps, since the very first moment I saw Regents when I was a child, - he looked at the ceiling pensively, - you know, it's like wishing for a present for all your life, dreaming of the most important. And then suddenly getting it. At first You can't believe, feel like a fool. And then realization starts leaking in tiny drops…"

Spellbinder smirked ironically.

"Maybe one day they will add a title to my name in history books as it is usually made with great Regents? – Jal would roll his eyes dramatically and raise his eyebrows effectively, hearing him. - Oh, my vainglory is woken once again…"

"They will, - Ashka said confidently, pulling a lock of his hair lightly, as when she had been a child, - and you will definitely be great…"

"…You will definitely be great…"

Trumpeters announced him appearing. Guards opened the doors. Gareth, wearing a shining powersuit, with his usually unruly hair being combed now, was walking the red carpet slowly, between two lines of Spellbinders and Apprentices. Each of them was holding right hand against the chest, greeting the future Regent.

"…That's not the worst of the weaknesses…"

Standing in the middle of the left line, Ashka was solemnly imperturbable and concentrated. But meeting the eyes of Gareth she smiled, very lightly. The way she usually smiled only to him – trusting, approvingly and warmly. Gareth felt he was also smiling.

"…Be great…"

What a long way… Next to the distant wall of the hall there were three thrones at the podium. And near them the Regents stood, wearing ceremonial satin clothes and quadrangular black hats. Tark on the right, Lukan on the left. A little further – Jal with a velvet pillow where a silver chain with medallions and a slim silver crown with rubies were lying. Ancient Regalia of Larius the Great, going with every Crowning ceremony.

"You are to be a wonderful Regent".

Gareth knew that according to his teacher's death a predecessor leaving the post had to elevate him to the throne. And Jal couldn't be happy with such a "smile of fortune" considering it too faithless and unfair. Two servants brought in the long mantle Regent was to wear. Heavy velvet folds covered Gareth's shoulders…

"…You will definitely be great…"

He knelled. Jal gave the pillow to Lukan and took the chain.

"By the power vested in me by the Regents of this land I now pronounce you new Head of the Council, - the cold chain clanked upon the metal symbol of the powersuit, - in the name of the Spellbinder Order I shall elevate you to the throne as a Regent", - the silver crown was put on his head. Gareth closed his eyes for a moment, hiding a smile. Jal's trembling nostrils after he'd put the crown almost on his forehead could clearly voice all his thoughts at this moment.

Gareth stood up.

"Let your judgments be reasonable and your deeds be fair, let your rule be successful, - with a somehow hidden pious expression, Jal stood aside, - so be it".

A bow. A bow in return. He turned to the Spellbinders and Apprentices. They did the same greeting a new Regent with bows.

He was taking the oath of allegiance. Each Spellbinder and Apprentice came to the podium, getting down on one knee, putting his hands in Gareth's. And each following "I do recognize you, Spellbinder Gareth, as the Head of the Council and a new Regent" was making his heart beating faster for some seconds. It was him who was considered a decent one, him, dreaming for all these years that maybe once he'd stand here, on this podium. Him, who hadn't been considered at all before, being too ordinary. Stupid. Silly.

Ashka went to the podium, looking at the man on the throne happily. Gareth nodded with a smile. That was the second ceremony she was seeing. The first one was Lukan crowning several years ago, when the girl went to her mentor confused by what words she was to say. The oath text was usually started with a speaker saying his or her name, then father's name. The Spellbinder had explained her that day that mothers were out of this tradition – it has developed historically this way. And being an exception Ashka was allowed to say only her name.

And so she did that time. Nobody was asking questions. Nobody considered it strange. And that's why now preparing for nearly the same text, the man flinched when she started speaking:

"I, Ashka, daughter of Gareth, for the prosperity of our country and the great Order, do recognize you, Spellbinder Gareth, as the Head of the Council and a new Regent".

Pause. Gareth froze holding Ashka's hands. Those present whispered to one another behind her back. Tark and Lukan sitting on each side – he could feel it – were watching them both. Nobody took any actions or said a word. Now it was up to him – to decide what to say and how to act.

Thawing out a little, the man nodded in good part, shaking the girl's hands gently. Smiled. She smiled in return, but not shyly as before, now it was a triumphant smile. She came back to her place. The taking of the oath was continued…

Later, when he was greeted with "Long live Regent Gareth!" for an umpteenth time, when Jal decided to disappear, owing nothing more, when the official part of the ceremony was finished, the castle residents went back to their rooms – to prepare for the ball.

"Congratulations, Regent, - Correon went to him smiling and bowing, - let me wish you every happiness in your rule…"

"…And ask what we were all witnessing, apparently, - Gareth sighed, - thank you for your wish. I swear, we didn't rehearse the oath text with her. I was also surprised and…"

"And finally, Gareth, - Correon said with no formalities, his eyes were laughing, - finally. Right now, right tonight. You have already been having this status unofficially for so many years".

There was no bewilderment, questions or any negative emotions in his look. Only kindness.

"Go to her. And don't you dare punish her for that little trick. She was the first to take a step we all expected from you".

Coming back to formalities, Correon bowed and went further, to his own room. And Gareth went to his. He was ready to doubt before their talk but now it was right. Right now, right tonight. At first he would change and then, in a more proper clothes, not in a powersuit, he would visit her…

One of the maidservants opened the door. Seeing the Regent she bowed and stepped aside.

Ashka was standing in the center of the room waiting for another maidservant to finish with the buttons on the back of her attire. That was the dress Gareth imagined once, making a sketch on the parchment. The tailor made perfection from an abstract idea, putting it into practice with slightly changed details. Black dress with a square neckline and a long train. The skirt was decorated with white embroidery – the Order symbols made with extreme accuracy.

"Thank you, girls, - waiting for the last buttons to be done, Gareth nodded to Maids, - the hairstyle is up to me".

"You look wonderful, - the Regent said honestly when the door was closed, - this dress suits you very much".

Ashka giggled, giving him a hairbrush and hairpins.

"Thank you. And I should match you, right? – she looked at his black pants, high boots and a shining black-and-blue jacket. - We are to open the ball".

"And we will open it, - taking a lock of her hair Gareth started braiding it quickly, - but I was going to speak to you about something else, actually".

"Really? About what?" – Ashka's shoulders tensed a little.

"You know about what, - he put the braid across her head, pinning, - and I want you to know I won't argue. But I have a right to feel surprised, don't I?"

"Surprised about what? – Ashka turned to him, looking into his eyes. - If it wasn't you, I'd never stood here, in this room, wearing this dress, - she nodded to her clothes, - nothing would have happened without you. I've been living in this castle for so many years; you are raising me, teaching… That is so simple".

He swallowed, putting the hairbrush and the rest of hairpins on the table.

"Why now?"

Ashka took a long lock of hair, winding it on her finger.

"I wasn't sure before, whether you want me to say like this. I am an Apprentice also, anyway, - she smirked, - and tonight… Well, consider it was a good moment. I've made a surprise… for my dad".

"I swear with my post in the Council, you succeeded, - Gareth thought, pulling Ashka closer and kissing her forehead, - my precious girl, how much time did you lose because of my foolishness?" It seemed now she was able to read all his thoughts, everything he could say…

"Yesterday you were speaking of a family, - Ashka continued, - of the fact that we should change the rules and change ourselves. Perhaps that thing made me do it. Because you were right. Now I can also talk about it. And I also want you to know something. When a title for the lifetime achievements is conferred upon Regent Gareth, that title will be "The Noble".

"Thank you, - overwhelmed with gratitude, he touched her cheek, - thank you, Ashka, for these words…"

"You deserve them, - she straightened her sleeves quickly and smoothed her hair back, - as no one else. Let's go, a Regent shouldn't be late".

And they left the room. And they opened the ball, moving slowly across the ballroom, hand in hand. And making one figure after another along with Ashka, Gareth thought how grateful he felt to his fate for the fact that once in a forest he'd chosen the right track…

**END OF PART ONE. **


	12. Story 12 In a different way (2 years l)

**Story 12. In a different way (two years later). **

"…**I **suppose, that is all for now. If you have no more questions – see you next time".

Taking the parchments and the bottles of herbs and powders, men and women of different age stood up from the tables put together in the middle of Rivertown market place. Wishing to attend the lesson this time, Gareth was happy with the result. The progress was obvious and could be even greater with the help of capabilities and striving forward.

"Thank you, Rolas, - the Regent nodded when the market place was empty, - that was really productive and informative. I think it's time for us to go back to the castle".

"Thanks to you, Regent, - the young man answered with a courteous bow, - I would never succeed without your help".

"It's nothing, - Gareth waved off, never fond of prolonged gratitude, and then looked at the golden evening sky, - let's finish with this kindness and start moving".

And so they did, mounting their horses and taking the familiar road to go back to the castle. During the rather long time those lessons had been taking place, they went by this road even more often then when it was ordinary collecting of tribute…

…Incredible, two years ago he went to the throne, anxious and nervous. Seems like it was recently. The memories were still bright and detailed, making him laugh occasionally, when he remembered himself of two years ago.

Two years… Entering upon his duties, the young Regent and a new Head of the Council knew it was going to be in a different way. But he could hardly imagine that "different way" was to happen so soon. His thoughts hadn't have time to be calmed after the crowning shake-up when an accident had happened in Easthill camp – a family of three had been struck down by some mysterious illness. The healer brought from the nearest settlement – Clayhill – could hardy succeed. When he'd found out the couple and their son had been feeling worse, Gareth made the only decision that seemed right and helpful in this situation…

"Regent, do you understand that I may also make a mistake? – Stogar asked carefully when a saddled horse had been led to him. - And I am not almighty".

"It's better than nothing, - Gareth said, - if we have a chance, we should try".

And they tried. They tried despite Lukan's and Tark's objections, who said it was necessary to save lives, of course, but a court healer was too great honor for the peasants.

"Too great honor? – the Head of the Council exclaimed then, bewildered. - How can it be this way? We must take care of the land".

"Of the land, - Tark emphasized, - not of each and every person. We can not save everyone".

Gareth, being about half of the old Regent's age, could hardly stop himself from shouting.

"What is a land if not its people, separately or together? – He asked coldly. - Think about yourselves, if not about them! What if an epidemic starts? You think, Tark, the castle walls will protect us?"

"My boy, - Lukan started with no formalities, - I do appreciate your enthusiasm. But if you're going to waste it like this every time, it won't last for very long".

"I don't care, - his shoulder jerked slightly and he quickly left the hall, going to Stogar and his younger brother Rolas, a former Apprentice and now the healer's assistant. The plan was ready, there was no time to doubt it or change his mind. Not a proper moment…

…Luckily, there was no epidemic across the land. Stogar wasn't sure he could deal with it, however he succeeded. Being almost absolutely sure, he said that has been some poison.

"In food or some other way – but the poison was taken, - the healer said, - I think I can deal with it".

Rolas helped him, yet he had no big practical experience. And Stogar's words were confirmed later, as he found out later the cause of poisoning was a hare the family had cooked for supper. Apparently it had been eaten some poisonous plant.

That problem was solved successfully, much to the delight of the Council, of course. But Gareth decided to go further, thinking that no lesson should be wasted without some knowledge.

Seeing that the healers of villages were sometimes unable to help, and in Easthill there was no healer at all, regent decided to begin the reform of it. Apart from the healers, there had been some volunteers chosen in every village – youths and girls, smart and patient, ready to get the knowledge from the castle residents in order to become the healers' assistants and aide the affected ones.

"Gareth how do you see it? – Lukan asked when he found out about the crazy idea. - It's not enough to be just smart, most of them can not read and write!"

"That is great, - the man answered as if nothing happened, - one should always start from the very beginning".

His companion rolled his eyes.

"By doing this, you make yourself almost equal to the peasantry. This is wrong. There are to be some borders, some line separating the information we have from the simple people's knowledge".

"Don't entertain yourself with a thought about class division, Lukan. Half of Spellbinders is from those "simple people" you speak about. And only the second half can be considered as children of the castle, actually".

"But there are healers in villages…"

"So what? – Gareth interrupted him. - How much can they do? How much do they know? Once their ancestors were gathering information bit by bit, saving their experience. But time can destroy everything, even knowledge. We should refresh this knowledge. Or else several decades more – and not the Darkness will be remembered with horror, but some bad year…"

And he started his plan. Larius knows, he started, preparing himself for the fact that it would be difficult. What could they need? Herbal collections and ingredients were only the half. Probably they would need to write something down…

"You don't have to deal with this all in person, - Rolas took the liberty to say once, - we just need to be accompanied, in case of something, that's all. We can take turns with my brother. And if you wish to start from the very beginning, we may explain to them some basic medicine recipes, which they probably know".

Gareth agreed. Chemistry had never been his strongest point, though a necessity to do something useful was extremely essential for him. And he couldn't say it was easy. It was difficult. People who came to get the knowledge also felt it. Some did give up. Others were striving forward stubbornly, aware of the fact they were doing it for themselves. At first – dealing with simple things. Later – with the ones that were more difficult.

The experiment was risky but reasonable. Lukan and Tark had also understood it. Not at once, however. In order to realize Gareth had been right they needed as much time as it took to see – the Head of the Council's name was making people of every village happy. More and more often… Right then the two of them understood how prescient the new Regent was.

Speaking of Gareth, going to Rivertown to attend another "lesson", he sometimes was absent for quite a long. And there were times when evening lessons planned for Ashka had been cancelled or postponed. It seemed like a fork in the road for him, and he felt guilty. He'd been waited for in Northrock or Clayhill, where another fevered youth was feeling better finally. But his Apprentice and daughter had also been waiting, she had to pilot a flying ship under her teacher's control, or to learn a new lesson.

Unable to split in two, he had to sacrifice something. And more often his paternal feelings were sacrificed for the state affairs. Sometimes, going back to the castle in evenings, he could see her somewhere at the viewing platform, holding a book. Sitting at the wide stone wall, she was reading some story and seemed preoccupied with it. The real thing was – and he knew such tricks perfectly – she was watching him coming closer, was waiting for an excuse.

"Sorry, kid, - the man sighed, sitting down next to her, - I am guilty once again".

Pause.

"Seems I owe you a duel practice?"

Pause.

"Two, actually".

"What?"

"Two practices, - Ashka closed the book, turning to him and putting her feet down from the wall, - one is from the previous time".

In the name of the Council, how could he forget? Во имя Совета, как он мог забыть? Gareth looked at his ward guiltily. She spoke again, as if reading his thoughts:

"It's alright; Emerick helped me with duel practice today. Six to four, to me".

"Really? – He hugged Ashka's shoulders. - I am happy to know it. Hope you dodged well?"

She nodded.

"You would like if you saw".

Some disapproval sounded in her voice, nearly absent, but clear anyway. Gareth lowered his head. They had already faced it. They had already talked about it. Ashka did her best to convince him and herself everything was fine. But he felt she was sometimes missing that previous Gareth. Gareth, who didn't have to be responsible for the whole land.

"Ashka…"

"It's alright, dad, - she squeezed the book with her hands as if it had some salvation, - really. I'm just… tired, I suppose. I understand perfectly how I am to behave and how I should assess your actions. So it's alright".

She stood up, kissing his cheek quickly, and walked to the castle.

"Good night".

"Good night", - Gareth answered, following her with his eyes. Yes, he'd probably had to stand up, to follow her, to stop her. Te tell her it was a temporary situation and the healers' assistants should appear in villages, educated people, able to do more than before. That it had been his own idea and, despite Spellbinders' control, an idea should be dealt with by its author. That the Regents should be respected at least, if not liked, and people had been primarily afraid of them for the last decades.

But he had already said it… Nearly in the same words. And every time he was hearing a perfectly rehearsed "Sure, Spellbinder, I understand it". Well, no, not perfectly. Despite her constant wish to look firmer and more inaccessible than she was, Ashka had never been able to fool Gareth, he could hear the tiniest falsehood in her words. He didn't like her to pretend. He didn't want her to be able to pretend at such a tender age. What is seventeen? A time when feelings should be freed, not locked up…

…Servants passed by, bowing to the Regent. It was stupid and useless to keep sitting at the wall like a dreamer. Shaking the dust off his cloak and straightening the powersuit, Gareth jumped down to the platform and walked to the castle…


	13. Story 13 Hair

**Story 13. Hair. **

"**W**hat do you think, should I cut my braid off?"

The Regent and his Apprentice were in her room, having the traditional breakfast for two arranged. The man was sitting at the table, while Ashka was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, braiding her hair slowly. Apparently, her voice he'd heard through the door and a pause after it were meaning a necessary answer. Sipping water from a cup, Gareth was glad he'd already swallowed it. The question confused him, though Ashka had always been able to do it successfully.

"Is there any reason for it?" – The man asked to make a start.

"Well, I've got your hair cut! – entering the room, Ashka looked at Gareth disapprovingly over her shoulder. - Why can't I?"

The Regent smirked, taking another sip. Indeed, that had happened several years ago, almost immediately after he'd got the Head of the Council post. Looking at his reflection once, Gareth had decided he'd better look at least a little more serious. Try to, anyway. But what could he do for it? The only decision that seemed proper that time had been to cut his log hair he'd been wearing since young age. That hair had always been making him younger.

And so Gareth did, taking the scissors. And a couple of hours later he got an angry: "Oh, what is this?" from Ashka. She raised her thin eyebrows, and the Regent, not expecting for such a reaction at all, thought he'd rather have warned her in advance.

"How could you? – Sometimes she couldn't miss a chance to look at her mentor's head disapprovingly. - I got used to see that fringe…"

Gareth laughed. Of course she did! His long hair had been a good way for her to express herself – as a child Ashka had been fond of pulling his fringe lightly, being in no mood or trying to make him notice her. Years passed – the habit was still there. So now she had a reason for lamenting.

"And I was sure you've become to mature for that lovely tradition, - he said, - or am I wrong?"

Ashka smirked pointedly, turning away from him.

…Coming back to the present moment, he put the cup on the table accurately and helped the girl seat.

"Ashka, I am a man and a Regent, by the way, - he said, - romantic appearance doesn't suit me".

"Nonsense, - the girl interrupted, - so it did suit you before?"

"Before I was younger, - Gareth continued, not waiting for her to start questioning his thoughts of the age, - you are a girl, a very beautiful one. Why do you need it?"

"I haven't decided yet, - as id nothing happened she sliced her hunch of bread in two and put it back on her plate, - Wanted to ask just in case".

Gareth sighed. One couldn't guess with her, one thing after another.

"Right, I got it, - he nodded, - but there had to be some reason for this question?"

"Sometimes I feel stupid, - she waved with her hand, nearly knocking the cup off from the table, - no woman is wearing long hair in the castle".

"Marna is".

"It doesn't count, - Ashka said, never paying too much attention to Tark's Apprentice and things about her, - Elrick says a short haircut would be better for me".

So that was it… Everything became clear. An Apprentice of Lans, Emerick's younger brother, ambitious, stubborn, and promising.

"Really? – Gareth asked calmly. - He said it?"

"Something like this, - Ashka nodded light-mindedly, not bothered with the food as much as with the talk, - he thinks short hair shows your character".

Gareth raised an eyebrow, finishing with his meat and vegetables.

"There is some sense in his words, I won't doubt it. But I don't think you should definitely prove it".

"Why not? – Ashka touched her braid anxiously, still looking at Gareth. - It will look awful, right?"

"You will be pretty in any case love, - he put the cutlery to his plate, - I am sure even in years your beauty won't fade. But there are decisions, which shouldn't be spontaneous and reckless, - with these words he poured water into their cups, - speaking about you, you may change your mind, but it will be too late".

Ashka looked in her cup thoughtfully, as if trying to find out from there whose words would win. Gareth was slicing an apple silently, sure that his mission and arguments were over for some time. Of course, she was the owner of her hair, she was to make decisions. But he wasn't fond of suck manlike habits and preferences. And short haircuts also, though Larius knows, this strange impossible fashion was very popular among the women of the castle! At least he could still use Marna as an argument, though not too strong. Her long blond hair, flowing usually, was a real rarity now. What foolishness was seizing everyone? A woman should be a woman, first of all!

"Suppose, you're right, - Ashka said, putting her empty cup on the table, - I won't rush. And so I will say to Elrick".

Gareth smiled.

"Good girl, - he gave her the slices of apple, - that's right. Now finish with your breakfast, lessons are waiting".


	14. Story 14 Likings and preferences

**Story 14. Likings and preferences. **

**D**uring some time Gareth had a chance to witness the thing he had called "a half-love triangle". Young Apprentices had started showing their courtesy to Ashka long ago, but only two of them had a real chance to succeed – brothers Emerick and Elrick. Though "a real chance" could be considered as strongly told they both had gotten closer to the girl and became friends of her.

The three of them were seen together very often. Ashka – one step forward, brothers – behind her back. They could be seen in the gardens or at viewing platforms, where it was so nice to walk on sunny days. Emerick was half a head taller than Elrick and it was their main distinction – both of them were dark-haired and resembled each other very much even not being the twins. However they had very different characters. Emerick was keen on thinking and analysis, his younger brother preferred more spontaneous and decisive actions. Emerick liked the sun, Elrick – rains. The older one used to spend his free time in the library, looking through some ancient journal, while the younger one used to ride a horse through the forest. And if some adventure could be added to this ride – the Marauders coming and then fought back bravely – that would be really wonderful.

It seemed that both brothers, following Ashka, were making an unspoken agreement, competing and showing off and not being too serious with it yet. Ashka loved getting the double attention, so she didn't hurry with clarifying her likings, enjoying the fact that the young men were ready to accompany her. She could smile to one of them, and the next day she would pay her attention to the other one. And the brothers, almost spellbound, getting their rewards in turn, were prolonging their "agreement".

"Why are you doing this? – Gareth asked once. - Why are you doing this to them? Now they still can stand each other next to you, but later they may have a real argument".

"You're exaggerating, - leaning on the rails, Ashka looked down from the balcony, to where Emerick was walking, holding a powersuit, - nothing will happen. However… A duel over a woman – Imola wouldn't have a chance to object, right?"

"Come to your senses! – The Regent grasped her shoulders. - What duel, are you crazy? What are these silly games?"

"Don't shout! – Ashka freed from his hands. - Why are you taking everything to your heart? Am I not allowed to dream?"

"Yes, you are, - Gareth said coldly, - but you aren't just dreaming, you play with these young guys. You forget they are brothers, and in such case their competition may be finished with either you lose both of them, or they will consider each other enemies. Is this what you want?"

"No, it's not! – The girl also raised her voice. - But you are saying some nonsense!"

Man took a step forward, to her, but Ashka stepped back, seeing it, looking at him with displeasure and offense.

"I am right, - Gareth said, - and you'll see it if you don't stop. You want to know what to do? Give your preference to one of them, that will be more decent and reasonable".

With these words he went back into the room, leaving the girl, whose displeased glance was burning his skin, at the balcony.

He didn't know what to expect for after that talk, so he had all the reasons to be afraid. Sometimes Ashka was definitely going too far and overdoing, acting not the way he'd love to. And even now… She'd realized quite early that she was to become a beauty in time, that her nice and lovely features were to become exquisite. On the one hand Gareth was very happy about it, because being beautiful was important for a girl. On the other – now Ashka was using her beauty not for the proper purposes.

He didn't know what to expect for. For some time Gareth was distracted from that problem – the next month was to be a drought beginning, there were harvest problems in the villages. In such cases the Spellbinders traditionally tried to meet the needs of peasants, helped with fields watering and presenting it as some kind of a miracle. Gareth himself considered these hidden allusions to something supernatural silly and weird. Deep in his thoughts the man hoped that tradition could be abolished. But Lukan and Tark, hearing about his idea, said emphatically this time he wouldn't have support from them and from the Spellbinders.

"Yes, you are the Head of the Council, Gareth, - Tark nodded, listening to his opinion, - but I guarantee, the most will be against such plans. And speaking of your powers – for sure you understand, even the authorities may be wrong. Not all the ideas are good, not all of them should be overestimated".

"Shall I consider it as a hint?" – The man asked imperturbably.

"Consider as you like, Gareth, - Lukan interrupted, silent at first, - but we ca not let you act too free with peasants overeducation".

So he understood he wasn't inviolable, and his power wasn't unlimited. Though he longed for this stupid vestige of the past abolishing, he had to face the fact it was impossible for now, if he wasn't going to lose his post and the chance to do at least something for the land. Well, perhaps, once, in a little more distant future…

Leaving the state reforms and plans for a while, Gareth paid attention to his ward once again. And he saw she had heard his words actually, making her choice. Her preferences were given to Elrick, former and more decisive than his older brother. Of course, Elrick wasn't happy with it, seen in their company less often. So he concluded "a half-love triangle" was turning into a more common line.

Gareth understood that apparently Ashka was attracted by Elrick's character and some longing for adventures. He was seeing both the brothers equal, not choosing who was better and who was worse. They were different; there had been no need to compare them. At least he was happy a displeasing situation and Ashka's game with two Apprentices were over.

Of course, now when Emerick stepped aside, the game would be continued, now she and Elrick would be showing off for one another. Apparently, that is how it would be, because Ashka couldn't stand someone more stubborn.

One day he met Elrick in the castle passage, they were watching each other silently, not expecting for it, not knowing what to do.

"Are you against our relationship, Regent?" – Elrick bowed, deciding not to beat round the bush.

Gareth was quite happy with a beginning, being in positive mood.

"Not at all, - he answered, - but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be reasonable, Elrick. Let Ashka not be disappointed in you and let me not have any bad thoughts about you".

With a slight bow he went further, to the opposite exit from a passage. He felt bewildered Elrick was following him with his eyes. Probably he expected some lectures, prohibitions, angry exclamations? That was in vain. And Gareth realized he has having a final word once again, unexpectedly and effectively…

Gareth was pleasantly surprised, ready to witness the course of events. Two characters, which were supposed to confront each other, were coexisting in a rather peaceful way, having only rare and not serious arguments. More and more often Ashka was riding horse together with Elrick or walking in the gardens. She was constantly smiling. Sometimes they arranged a duel practice in old passages, adding their laughter to powerbolts crackling.

"I hit you!"

"No, you didn't, I dodged!"

"No, I hit you!"

There were always flowers in Ashka's room – Gareth didn't doubt that Elrick was taking them from the castle greenhouses. The Regent had been sure before only opposites attract, at least that was a rule from flying ships piloting. However, the mechanisms were simpler, apparently – people could sometimes attract with the help of their similarities, not differences.

A strange union of two strong natures… When Ashka was a child, Gareth taught her to be persistent and always go further, but Elrick was raised in the same traditions, grown up in the castle, knowing the Spellbinder discipline. That collision could become either a confrontation or a compromise for on of them. And Gareth couldn't say he was surprised by the fact Elrick was making compromises more often. The young man was like a rock, firm and unbreakable, but Ashka seemed to be like water, going to her aims with admirable patience. And water was wearing away the stone, he knew it…

Going from Westfield one evening, Gareth walked through the courtyard to the castle. On his way to the stable he noticed something interesting: two horse riders silhouettes. Squinting in the dark, he was able to identify them and almost immediately he understood what was so strange. Ashka and Elrick (well, of course!) were sitting on their horses and kissing at the same time! At first moment Gareth hadn't been able to say what confused him more – the fact he was watching their kiss or the fact they were holding hands, forgetting about the reins. Pulling himself together, the Regent turned around and went the other way, laughing. Whatever it was, he didn't want them to know he was there.

Of course, not everything was perfect. Sometimes they were arguing, not too seriously, but Ashka was still pouting afterwards, reminding Gareth of an angry dragonling. Nevertheless, those moments weren't frequent – either Elrick, aware of the Regent's words, didn't want to disappoint him, or Ashka was overpowering her pride and a wish to look inaccessible.

"I am alright, - she said shortly one day, when Gareth tried to find out what caused another argument between her and Elrick, - really, that's nothing".

He believed her, giving in. What else could he do? Little Ginger Fox grew up, though it was difficult to accept sometimes. She could deal with her feelings.

"Good if it is so, - Gareth put a hand on her shoulder, - but I worry".

"I am not a child anymore, dad, - Ashka smiled guiltily, pulling at his earlobe; for some time that was a proper equivalent to the cut hair, - everything will be fine".

"Suppose, I will always consider you as a child", - the man thought. Deep in his mind he was comparing this slender ginger beauty with that naughty creature with scratched knees, who was wandering round the castle and dirtying her uniform. He was comparing and trying to understand when the change had come. And why so quickly and unnoticed? Or was it only him who thought so?


	15. Story 15 A bit of happiness

**Story 15. A bit of happiness. **

**F**ull age – that was serious. Gareth had been preparing himself for a while for the fact that Ashka's age would be lettered with cherished "two" and "one". He'd been preparing and thinking of how to emphasize that date among the others. As for Ashka – he hoped that at least she wouldn't start guessing - Ashka had always been indifferent about her birthdays, though the Regent couldn't understand how it was possible.

"I may congratulate you, if you like this tradition so much, - she usually said to her mentor, - but I consider it silly".

"You didn't when you were a child", - Gareth mentioned once, surprised.

"That was long ago", - the girl draw a line, smirking.

Gareth's eyebrows, raised in a silent question, voiced his opinion better that any words would do. But Ashka already ran away, with her mocking ginger braid waved. Interesting, was she saying the same things about birthdays to Elrick?

Having no answer to this question yet, Gareth decided to think of the coming event in order to save the tradition. But what so special could he give her? The Regent's daughter is not the sort of person who lacked something. He was sure, anyway. However, if he'd think of it…

Opening the heavy casket on his table, Gareth started sorting its contents, consisting mostly of his old writings on old pieces of parchment and somehow put with them a broken cloak buckle. After all, under the false velvet bottom he found what he was looking for – a rather big raw ruby, gotten from the mine about four years ago. Being the Head of the Council, he'd gotten the stone and thought for a while about how to use it and what to do. Since ancient times the precious stones, found during the resource extractions, had been given to the Council. And then the Regents were deciding what to do – to save a raw stone, to give it to a Spellbinder or even an Apprentice for some achievements, or to make jewelry first and then make it a present.

Sometimes Gareth had been watching the castle residents, trying to guess, whether he'd have a chance to do it, if someone's achievements would be really special. However, now the man was glad he hadn't thought of it seriously. Grasping the ruby, he closed the casket and left the room, not bothered with lots of parchments on the table. Having an unexpectedly good idea in his head, the Regent was going to the court jeweler…

Apparently, Elrick didn't share the beliefs about silly birthdays celebrating. And he was going to prove it, however, fate had other plans and intentions…

…In the morning, while other Spellbinders were finishing with their breakfast, Gareth went to Ashka's room and found her in a bad mood. The table in the Apprentice's apartments had been set for two, but the food wasn't eaten yet. Ringing silence filled the room, and even fresh air going through the opened window, didn't make the atmosphere less tense. The girl was sitting at the table, arms folded on her chest. Her look was less official than any other days – black pants and boots had been put on not with traditional sweater and a tunic, but with loose white shirt, belted on her waist. Her hair was flowing. And above all – Ashka was sad.

"It seems Elrick is ill, - she mumbled, looking at the man at the doorstep, - we were going to have breakfast together, but he didn't come. And Emerick doesn't allow me to see him…"

The girl took a sip from a cup of water.

"Well, tell me after that Birthday is a reason to celebrate something…"

Gareth almost came closer, ready to express his sympathy. But these words made him stop. Elrick, Elrick… So inopportunely. ]

Then, as ill luck would have it, his Eyestone started working.

"Gareth, this is Lukan. We wait for you in the hall, some questions on the villages should be dealt with…"

Ashka watched him calmly, then looked back on her plate. A double misfortune – that was too much for one morning, though she wasn't going to express her emotions.

"You should go… I will have some time for breakfast", - the girl nodded. If he didn't know her well, he'd believe, honestly. But her lips… Her lips, a little pursed, and her eyes looking not at the plate but watching the empty space – these two details betrayed her. The Regent sighed, realizing that was a situation he wouldn't wish on his enemy. Duties needed him to be in the hall of the Council. But Larius and all the Regents put together, that was her age day!

"Lukan, today I am out of touch for everyone, - Gareth opening the Eyestone, - I understand the questions are important and need my opinion, but we shall postpone them till the evening or tomorrow".

"Gareth, what…"

"My daughter has the Age day today, that's what, - the man said shortly, looking at bewildered Ashka, - and I am going to spend this day with her, so I beg my pardon".

Closing the Eyestone before Lukan had time to object, Gareth watched the girl triumphantly.

"Get ready".

"Where? – Ashka asked, looking with confusion at her mentor observing the food. - Why? What did you come up with?"

"We will make a picnic! – Gareth concluded, smiling. - What do you have here? Meat, corn fruits… Put everything in a bag, take a flask of water, I'll be back in several minutes".

Shocked, the girl was watching him.

"How? Only several minutes? – She didn't even have time to understand that spontaneity. - but I need to change…"

"No changings, - Gareth laughed, - you look lovely. A powersuit on this – and let's go".

Her lips smiled. In a moment Ashka was smiling happily, still not realizing, unable to believe. And not bothered with it.

"I'll be ready promise!"

A little bit later they were riding their horses through the forest, having no exact idea of where to. That didn't matter. Gareth had time not only to return to his own room and put on a powersuit, he also put the rests of his own breakfast in the bag. Of course, tonight he had to face less than happy Regents, who had planned everything ten steps ahead. Of course he'd have to put them in their place – gently or not, according to the situation. But that all would be not too soon. And Larius the Great, the faces of Lukan and Tark after that failed meeting would be really amusing, worth not one "unpleasant evening conversation".

…They rushed to their freedom and hot summer sun, endless sky and forest freshness. Ashka, whose hair was unbraided again, tried to outrace him, looking over her shoulder and smiling. And Gareth smiled too, hurrying Mist and following the girl. Whatever the evening was preparing for him, his work could wait. He was a father, in the first place, and only after this – the Head of the Council…

"it's so… peaceful here…"

They were lying on the grass, under the spreading branches on the hill tree. "Our dear hill" – so it had been named by Gareth once, when they had come here with his little ginger Apprentice to read new amazing stories and legends. It seemed nothing changed since those days – a tree, a hill – everything was the same, on the same places. Only people were changed by time – a little child became a pretty young girl. And he grew older, in brief.

Gareth laughed quietly, expecting for "beautiful", "wonderful" or something like this. Of all the definitions she'd had, Ashka chose "peaceful". Maybe that was strange, but maybe they really needed some peace. Each other's company, with no castle in front of them, no people and no need to rush somewhere or decide something.

"This is our place, - with her eyes closed, Ashka put one hand under her head, - thanks. Dad, for taking me out of the castle".

He was also happy with this sudden adventure, he hadn't thought about in details. Though it seemed everything went fine itself – the bags with partly eaten food were lying near the tree, as well as two powersuits put off.

"What are you thinking about now?" – Gareth asked turning and propping up his head.

Interested, Ashka opened one eye and looked at the man.

"About how I wish to prolong this moment, suppose. To remember everything – this tree, this weather, us as we are now… Why?"

Gareth sat up, taking his bag.

"And I thin it's time to remember somebody's disliked tradition and prepare for a surprise".

"Oh no…, - Ashka protested playfully, - what surprise?"

"As if I'm going to tell you. Now close your eyes".

The girl obeyed, waiting for something, but still having a moment to grimace. Gareth smiled, opening the secret pocket in his bag. The jeweler didn't let him down, saying it would be done in time and its best way. A big silver ring with a faceted ruby looked really impressive.

"You said nothing about its total look, Regent, - the jeweler explained to Gareth, who hadn't expect the ring to be so massive, - I thought this ring would be perfect for a slender hand".

Generally speaking, he was happy with it. And now he bit his lip in expectation, putting the ring on Ashka's finger.

"Here comes a surprise, - her eyes were opened immediately, Gareth leaned down, kissing the girl's cheek, - Happy Birthday!"

Ashka watched the jewelry on her hand for several moments, not blinking, not moving or speaking.

"You don't like it?" – The Regent asked carefully.

"I do, - the girl whispered, stretching out her arm and admiring, - I like it so much. Really, thank you! But it's just… unexpected. It is so… too wonderful!"

Gareth laughed.

"Jewelry can't be "too wonderful", Ashka. A woman honors any trinket she's wearing. They are made to emphasize your beauty".

"It's not a trinket, - Ashka objected, lying on her stomach and still admiring, - I am going to wear it always!"

Suddenly, as if the weather had changed or the wind blew, a smile vanished from her face. The doubt was visible in her eyes.

"What is it? – Gareth lied down next to her, looking at his Apprentice in confusion. - I chose the wrong stone? Or wrong metal?"

"No, you chose right, honestly, - leaning forward, she kissed him in return, - and I really like it very much. It's just…"

"It's just" what?"

Ashka sighed, glancing at him quickly.

"It's nothing".

"Tell me, - Gareth objected, - I'll understand and accept any stupid nothing. By the way, whom else can we share it with, if not with our family/"

Pause.

"When we are together, - Ashka started, - I feel so happy… Like right now. Perhaps, even too happy. And then I feel scared…"

"Why?" – Surprised and anxious, Gareth embraced her shoulders.

Pause again.

"Because I think one day this happiness may be taken away from me, - the girl said quietly, lowering her head, - one can not have everything fine".

"Hey, kid, where's this mood from? – Gareth sat up again, pulling the girl to himself and hugging. - Did something happen?"

"No, it didn't, - Ashka answered, forcing a smile, - stupid nothing, as I've told. Though sometimes…, - she sighed, - I am afraid of losing you so much. Afraid of your vanishing and my staying".

"That is never going to happen, - Gareth said firmly, stroking her hair, - look, you are here, I am here. Can we go somewhere from each other?"

The girl smiled again, encouraged by his confident voice.

"I doubt it".

"So you see, - with one hand he took two pears from his bag, giving a fruit to Ashka, - everything is alright, no need to worry. The land is too small for me to run away. And I love you too much to leave".

The girl bit her pear, looking at Gareth upward.

"I will always be with you, - he nodded, - I promise, - then he took his flask from the grass, - well, to hero of occasion!"

They went forward, when shadows moved aside, leaving them with no shelter from the sun. It was too hot to stay on the hill any longer. They rode through the field with high grass and flowers, transferring their horses from trot to walking. Then they dismounted, running across the green scope, hiding and laughing. Gareth was tearing off the bright field flowers, raining them upon Ashka. And then, later, they found a nice cool place at Orchard and stayed there.

"You know, when I look at this ring, I remember the story of Alegas and Gryvon who saved him", - Ashka said, watching the sparkling stone on her hand.

"He became an Apprentice and got the ring, - the man finished, - I remember it. By the way, as you've reminded me of it, we are to go to Rivertown next week. I thought we could stay at the new Clayhill Summoner's house, you were so kind to name his son once".

Ashka smirked.

"I don't know if it is a good idea… They live in _that_ house", - Gareth understood what she meant. Indeed, such a strange irony of fate – the family of Aaron was living in the house, which had been owned by Ashka's parents many years ago. The house she refused to enter.

"You know, you don't have to go inside, - Gareth offered, - and visiting them is only an idea for now. I have great plans for little Gryvon, after all, we gave him his name. The boy could be an Apprentice one day".

"Really? But he's probably too little for it now…"

"Look, who's talking about the age, - Gareth laughed, - I can name one very famous exception".

"I am fluttered, - Ashka looked down, pursing her lips, - but who's going to teach this exception-number-two? You?"

"This is possible, - the Regent nodded, - however, to tell the truth, I was thinking of you".

"Of me? – The girl raised her eyebrows gracefully. - But this is… I'm trying to say I am not an expert in children…"

Her look was suspicious.

"I am not sure…"

"But I am, - the Regent concluded, - and besides, this is just some plan or idea, no certain decisions yet. The future will see".

Ashka watched him worriedly for a while, then looked at water, leaning against the tree.

"Tell me, why have you never sung at the celebrations?"

Scooping some river water into his hands, Gareth froze, forgetting his entertaining action.

"Why have you always been able to confuse me with a question?" – he answered with a smile, turning to Ashka, who sat under the tree.

"I am the master of it, - she said knowingly, watching her mentor, - but anyway…"

The man tousled his hair with wet hands. A good question, a perfect one, he could say. And how to answer? He was gifted by fate, having two not very coexisting phenomena – a good voice; he had realized it being a youth. And a less than pleasant teacher he had gotten nearly at the same time. One had been excluding the other. And it wasn't difficult to guess how…

Some of the Spellbinders were also musically talented. Men and women were singing at the celebrations, making everyone rapt and excited. Young Gareth, who had to stand the notes without any help, dreamed of a day when he would probably be able to do the same. But those fantasies of his, as well as the thoughts about Regency, were to be called stupid when Brey was alive. And later, when the old Spellbinder was gone, the longing for expressing himself was slowly vanishing. Gareth remembered his skills only when it was time to lull Ashka to sleep. Or when he was shaving, looking in the mirror absent-mindedly…

"These are my ghosts, - seeing her confused glance, he clarified, - everyone has their own ghosts named past. Brey was my ghosts".

"He didn't like your singing?" – The girl guessed.

"He didn't like everything that went against the flow of everyday strict discipline, - the Regent smirked, - sometimes I performed a song or two at the celebrations and ceremonies. Don't think it was that sad. Just a wish to do it faded away slowly. And why did you mention it?"

Ashka shrugged.

"Wanted to go back to the past, suppose. Would you like to sing?"

"Nooo, - Gareth rolled his eyes, - I am in no voice today and I haven't practiced for a while…"

"Stop being overmodest, - Ashka took his hand, - oh please, dad! It's for me!"

He sighed. Was it of any use to reject, if she was to get what she wanted anyway? Probably not…

"But only one, - Gareth said with dramatic sternness, clearing his throat, - and only for our celebration today. Deal?"

"Deal", - Ashka nodded happily.

Mentally he looked over those tunes he was still remembering and chose a song he'd heard in Northrock once. That was a love ballad Mira had been fond of so much. Gareth sang, surprised by himself – his voice, so unexpectedly strong and pure after the long "silence" got its freedom, replaying the old text and melody. Ashka was listening, afraid to move, as if the man nearby could change his mind and stop in this case.

And he sang. Despite his own intention, the first song was followed by the second one. The second one – by the third one. He sang, freeing himself from his complexes and doubts. He sang and his most faithful listener was drinking in every single sound, every note. He sang and felt an amazing happy ease. And he knew she was feeling the same ease now.

And then they were walking barefoot along Orchard, arm in arm, enjoying the mild evening air after the hot day. Ashka left her hair flowing, and now the wind was playing with the hair locks so melted copper-like. Both the Eyestones were silent, nobody was rushing from the castle to look for the absent ones, the flying ships weren't seen above the heads. For an umpteenth time during that day Gareth felt happy for that sudden spontaneous escaping. Everything was quiet. Everything was wonderful…


	16. Story 16 Elrick

**Story 16. Elrick. **

**A**nd then there was the long-awaited event. One more ceremony, one more initiation and coming to three thrones across the room. An ordinary day for the castle, but not for Gareth. Now the white-and-blue clothes in Ashka's room was replaced by black-and-scarlet. Now the girl was not an Apprentice anymore, but a full Spellbinder.

Very often he was thinking there had been plenty of time before this day, that he has so much to do, so much to prepare… That his daughter was still too young. And the day came so suddenly, against his expectations, bringing nervousness and pride. And the realization of the simple fact that everything seemed to be already done. He prepared everything. He taught her everything. And now he even was the teacher in that sense of a word he got used to know. Now he was only regent Gareth, again. Well, and still her father, of course.

The man didn't even have time to savor the bittersweet moment – Ashka shocked him with the news so sudden that all other thought were left aside for some time.

"Elrick and I are not together anymore, - the girl said one evening, - we decided to split up".

He didn't expect. Well, sometimes it looked like the lovers were going to have an argument and start firing the powerbolt. Luckily, that happened seldom and quickly, never turning out to become a duel or something. And here it was…

"Did I miss anything? – Gareth was surprised. - You had an argument? Or did he offend you?"

Ashka smirked.

"No. As strange as it sounds, we didn't have any arguments this time. And by the way, it was obvious for a while. And the decision was mutual".

The Regent was going to ask another question but stopped.

"Wait… What does this "for a while" mean?"

"It means we weren't as close as before for some time, - the young Spellbinder clarified, - we are too different, actually. I wanted to tell you before the Ceremony but thought that would be wrong and spoil everything. You would be upset…"

Gareth smiled bitterly.

"You were saving my feelings? Sorry, I am really sorry it happened like this… Is this the final decision?"

"Yes, I am sure. And thanks".

They went to the balcony, looking at the dark sky and torches lights in the courtyard. Life in the castle was coming to a standstill by night. Gareth liked this time of the day very much, perhaps, more than any other.

Somewhere in the distance a white flash lit the sky. A storm was coming.

"I thought I would be upset, - Ashka started, - that I would cry, probably. After all, I got used to be with him during the last years. But for some reason I failed, - she smiled wryly, - There were no tears. There was just some strange ease and joy. Maybe I'm an unfeeling monster, right? Girls are supposed to suffer and cry in such situations".

"Stop it, - Gareth interrupted, taking her hand, - you are not a monster. And you will never be one. Of course, Elrick is a nice guy, though, apparently he's just not a hero of your legend".

"In what sense?"

"In the sense of everything is to come, - the man smiled, - we all are looking for an ideal for ourselves. And sometimes it happens so that it may find us. At first sight it can be not so perfect".

Ashka squinted with doubt.

"I am not sure I understand…"

"One day you will, - the Regent said, - sometimes this understanding comes much later, and the man you need is already nearby for a while, waiting patiently. Maybe he won't shine, being unnoticed. But he will be the one who not just understands you, but feels you, devoted to you wholeheartedly".

"And he'll become the hero of my legend?" – Ashka asked ironically.

"Yes, - Gareth confirmed, - the hero of your legend. You just have to wait for him…"


	17. Story 17 Gryvon

**Story 17. Gryvon. **

**G**areth thought he'd need much time to get used to a new person in the castle, but he was wrong. Young Gryvon, full of equal parts of incompatible prudence and curiosity, moved to the place as it had been expected. Though the young Apprentice was poking his nose into everything, he could also give up, knowing the punishment was inevitable. Ashka was pouting dramatically for a while, saying that it wasn't fair to make her babysit. Other Spellbinders and Apprentices showed polite interest and smiled to the newcomer kindly. And speaking of the Council – they had been luckily persuaded a year ago. Lukan and Tark were watching the Clayhill boy's progress for a while, but seems like they were happy with results. They had to accept it and get themselves busy with other matters.

Little Gryvon showed unusual enthusiasm for his age and was interested in science. And of course, he was reaching out for Ashka, that was obvious earlier, at the ball, when a nine-year-old guest took the liberty to ask him "no to punish her". That moment Gareth bit his lip, trying not to laugh and thought that perhaps everything was right – perhaps it was no him who was supposed to teach the boy.

How did he call her? "A Fairy"? Very poetic. But children need to reach out for somebody; he told himself the same thing not so long ago. And if the child considers her as a fairy…

Gareth smirked. He could understand the reason for such definition, though Gryvon, who tried to become closer to his strict mentor, even if not as her friend, still didn't know many things. Ashka was more than reluctant in becoming close friends with any people. Only the few of the castle could be considered as exceptions. And the biggest exception was Gareth, who knew her longer and better than the others. He knew that her harshness, almost rudeness was some sort of a defense mechanism. Once he hadn't wanted the girl to be able to pretend. The irony was that she became a very skillful master of this art, behind a mask her real soul was hidden – a passionate, impulsive and loving nature.

One more thing Gryvon didn't know was the fact that Ashka, trying to act unexpectedly, could be attracted only by even more unexpected actions. And by a patient attitude to her character, of course. Very often the boy walked through the castle corridors with suffering-bewildered face expression, showing that another lesson had happened not quite as he wanted. Or not at all, to be more specific. However, some situations had been the fault of the Summoner's son. For example, that story with ink on his wrist. In that situation Ashka got Gareth's approval. Nevertheless, sometimes she was too fiery, as if in retaliation for being "awarded" with an Apprentice too soon, not allowing to savor the free Spellbinder life…

Gryvon faced the hardest first years stoically. Gareth supposed it was the best solution, he wasn't going to start any talks like "You should get used to each other". Firstly, the discipline was never to be abolished. And secondly, if Ashka was really like a fairy for Gryvon, he was to find their common language himself.

"Aren't you overdoing?" – Gareth asked after another lesson, despite his own intentions. He could witness Gryvon rushing from the room, turning around on the run and shouting: "I'm sorry, Spellbinder, I didn't want it to happen!" There were two maidservants in the room, trying to clean the windowsill after a failed chemical experiment. Ashka was standing nearby, with arms folded on her chest, watching the process. Her eyes were looking at the spots on the sill and on the vase that was standing there.

"He's my Apprentice, - the Spellbinder said with displeasure, - I can decide how to act".

"I agree with the first, - the man nodded, entering the room, - but the second…"

"What "the second"? – Ashka exclaimed. - You feel sorry for him? And I feel sorry for the fact you didn't see as everything was to explode here. You may find him, if you want, and ask what proportions he used for the mixture. Leave us, - that was said to the maids near the window, - you're useless anyway!"

Girls went to the doors quickly.

"Ashka, he's only twelve, - the Regent said when they were left alone, - and he was probably afraid too".

"That doesn't mean he shouldn't get concentrated, - his companion turned away, moving her shoulder sharply, - and he seemed to be daydreaming".

Gareth came closer slowly, standing only a step from the girl.

"You're in no mood today, - he smiled sadly, - maybe we should go for a walk?"

"I don't want to, - Ashka muttered stubbornly, then turned around with a sigh, - tell me, am I really a bad teacher?"

"Why do you think so?" – Gareth answered with his own question.

"I think it's just a waste of time, - Ashka smiled wryly, - the boy feels stupid in my presence, this is obvious. And sometimes I can tell the same thing about myself".

Gareth smiled again, this time – approvingly. Yes, he wasn't going to speak of getting used to each other. But he wasn't going to do it with Gryvon, knowing for sure the time didn't come yet. As for Ashka…

"When you just appeared in the castle, - he started, - I wasn't sure whether I will be able to teach you or not. Whether this idea will be useful. I have always been doubting, everything: my own limits, my ideas, how I should act and how I shouldn't. Then I realized that doubts are like venom which poisons our existence. When there's too much of this venom you start feel scared of moving forward. That is why I grew older and trained myself to doubt less and less often".

"Shall I consider it as an encouragement?" – Ashka asked.

"Exactly, - the Regent confirmed, - you are a good teacher, well, too passionate, maybe, - the girl smiled to these words of his, - Gryvon will express himself, I'm sure, sooner or a little bit later. You just need to wait, and everything will go back to normal. And don't you dare doubt yourself, alright?"

"Alright, - Ashka nodded with no more displeasure on her face, - thanks. By the way, what were you saying about a walk?"

Persistency was probably one of the Gryvon's distinctive features. And that was a nice feature. The lessons weren't always successful, Gareth saw it. Though, at least persistence helped the Apprentice to overcome difficulties and make a good progress. Of course, that feature of him was not as strong as, for example, Ashka's persistence. However, Gryvon also couldn't be considered as weak in spirit.

Sometimes Gareth was taking a break from his duties and went to their lessons, listening to questions and answers. So strange, not long ago he – young and scared – had been telling to his Apprentice about the same castle surroundings, hardly realizing he had been a teacher. He'd been circling in the same dances with her, a fourteen-year-old girl that time. And he'd been starting the same first duel practice. He remembered Ashka, whose fragile gracefulness had been too fragile before, had put on a powersuit for the first time and asked him with horror "How is it possible to breathe in this thing?". And strange, all the events seemed to go in circles and repeat one day. Now she had her own Apprentice, Gareth wasn't even trying to control his achievements, he was just watching with curiosity. Why was he so sure of this boy? Perhaps, intuition was also going in circles and Gryvon was destined to move to the castle?

They had some things in common. Similar characters, similar beginnings of their ways. Though Gryvon happened to become an Apprentice, he had a loving family in Clayhill – the Summoner's family, like an invisible but strong support. Ashka hadn't had such support, her mother had died and the man she'd stopped calling a father long ago, had killed himself. And she had come to the castle much earlier, so Gareth had to play to parts – to become a teacher and a mentor. A new father, actually. And he kept on doubting, until he realized, felt, taught by her. They were able to teach each other, that's right, the process was mutual.

Stories are repeating themselves. And now it was Gryvon, who was putting on a powersuit, training to fire a powerbolt, to dodge, to memorize dates and names. Sometimes the Regent could witness another flash of his ward's temperament during a lesson. But sometimes she was able to overcome her irrepressible nature. And then he was seeing not just a young girl, but a wise Spellbinder and her Apprentice. Maybe, once they would be lucky enough to become friends?


	18. Story 18 Talk

**Story 18. Talk. **

**T**hat day Gareth left the hall of the Council in a very good mood. After discussing the news and issues they decided to start in the next month a selection of potential Apprentices among the village young people. During the meeting he also spoke about the works at the old mine, yet only briefly. Though the faces of Lukan and Tark let him know they had also been thinking of it for a while. Everything was pointing to the fact that magnetic resource extraction at the recent mine was slowly turning into some unpromising fuss. At the same time powersuits and flying ships were in need of new powerstones reserve. However, Gareth was going not to rush with the mine closing, but to think about everything properly. So he dismissed the Council and left the hall, going to warm up a little before supper and ride a horse. During the previous night he finished the last two parchment rolls from the library, so active pastime seemed more preferable.

He walked to the viewing platform, going along the outer wall and watching its edge and the blue sky behind it. Lovely weather. Cool, actually, but that didn't matter. Then he would saddle Mist and…

"And what a surprise!" – he saw Gryvon sitting behind another stone merlon, with his feet at the wall. He was gloomy, somewhere deep in his thoughts, holding a trinket. Seeing the Head of the Council, the youth stood up quickly, not stumbling luckily, and bowing.

"Hello, Regent".

"Hello, Gryvon, - Gareth nodded, feeling his first shock faded, - I didn't expect to see you here. How is the lesson?"

"Good, thank you", - Gryvon answered, his thoughts were still somewhere very far. Gareth looked at him and decided to make a first step. So he sat down at the same wall and made a welcoming gesture.

"What happened? Ashka is angry and sarcastic once again? Or was there a reason for it?"

The young Apprentice watched the wall for several seconds, then came closer with hesitation and sat down, a little further.

"Everything is fine".

"Just don't lie to me, - Gareth stopped him gently, - you know, lie is something I can sense for sure. Always".

Gryvon swallowed.

"There was no reason… Regent", - he said after a short pause, looking at his feet.

"However, she was angry, - the man concluded, - alright, what's the matter? Is it because of the lesson?"

Suddenly Gryvon jumped back to the platform and kneeled.

"Forgive me, Regent, please, forgive me! I couldn't do anything!"

Gareth was shocked by such a sudden move and change of mood.

"Easy, easy, my boy! Calm down, - jumping after him, the man tried to set the Apprentice back on his feet, though it seemed not simple to remove Gryvon from the stones, - what happened?" – The Regent repeated, finally giving in.

Instead of an answer Gryvon stretched out his hand holding some little thing. Gareth had no idea of what it meant, though obeyed, taking the trinket. And then he froze from a strangely familiar feeling, looking at what he got only now. There was a small ginger hair lock, warm and silky, lying on his palm.

"How did you get this?" – Gareth asked quietly, already aware of whose hair it was.

Still kneeling, Gryvon lowered his head.

"Forgive me, Regent, - he repeated, - I tried to stop her, but… She stood closer to the sill… And the scissors… The hairbrush was tangled…"

"Stop, stop, please! – Suddenly he somehow was able to set the youth back on his feet in one quick move. - Firstly, sir down, secondly, deep breath in. Thirdly, from the very beginning and slowly".

Gryvon looked at him as if he was ready to die, but his execution was postponed for some reason. Swallowing nervously, he took his seat at the wall and told about his lesson that day. He understood something was wrong with Ashka. He realized that "something" was a wooden hairbrush, tangled in Ashka's hair and making her furious. He was willing to help, and then, after a part of the task was performed accurately, Ashka stopped the fuss and the waiting.

"I am very sorry, Regent, - the youth started apologizing for the third time, - I didn't want it, honestly. I would never dare, but…"

"But what choice did you have, actually, - Gareth sighed, interrupting him, - I'm not angry, Gryvon, if this is what you worry about. Really. Ashka was planning to get rid of her braid for a while. It happened so that she succeeded today, with you help".

"I worry because I did something terrible, - the Apprentice confessed, - I know I have no right to point out, but this hair…"

He didn't finish, looking at the Regent guiltily. The older man laughed.

"Gryvon, it seems there is no man in our castle, who's not in some sort of love with Ashka's hair, - with these words the youth blushed, - and there is no woman, who's not envying her hair, - Gareth continued, - I understand you are feeling uncomfortable now…"

"Sometimes I think she hates me, - the young Apprentice mumbled, - just like today…"

Regent shook his head.

"Come on, it's only self-suggestion, nothing more, - seeing his companion didn't react, Gareth patted on his shoulder, - if you feel easy after it, Ashka hates in another way. And it looks differently. And this is the way… she's testing you, suppose".

"She told me the same thing, - Gryvon confirmed, - "tenacity test".

The man felt surprised. Was he right indeed? A coincidence?

"Let me reveal a little secret for you, - he whispered trustingly to the Apprentice next to him, - you've passed this test".

Amazed, Gryvon looked at the Regent.

"You think so?"

"I am sure, - Gareth nodded, - I feel it's not the last one, however you took a step up today".

Taking Gryvon's hand, Gareth made a fist gently.

"Patience, Apprentice. Patience is the feature one will need in order to be next to Ashka. And I think it's stupid to stop halfway, isn't it?"

Facing his insightful look, the youth nodded. Gareth smiled. Of course, Gryvon was confused, but it was absolutely clear for the Regent. All this exaltation and comparing to some fairies… he was in love, afraid to think about it at the same time. Absurd, isn't it? An Apprentice loves a Spellbinder…

Nodding goodbye, Gareth went his way, to the stable. On the one hand, he was really interested in what Ashka was thinking of it. If she was at all. On the other – his heart told him it would be better to let everything become clear itself and step aside. A quiet exclamation was heard behind his back. Unclenching his fist, Gryvon saw just now the ginger hair lock given back to him…


	19. Story 19 Fear

**Story 19. Fear. **

…**T**he ship was flying not too high, the rising sun lit the surroundings, changing purple-blue shades for golden-pink ones. Everything was fine. And a sense of freedom, which impressed Gryvon piloting the ship for the first time, was also fine. Almost tangible. Standing next to the pilot's seat, Ashka understood it, not even being sarcastic. Sunshine touched the Spellbinder symbol on her tunic…

And then everything was jolting and streaking… Two pairs f hands grasped the control levers, useless now, inexorable grey rocks neared, the flying ship tilted… A crash was followed by a thrust and then more crush came, silencing to cries sounding as one…

…Gareth opened his eyes, sitting up quickly and trying to catch his breath. His left hand was squeezing the blanket. The head was humming. Something was wrong. He blinked several times, right hand reached up to his chest where his heart was beating desperately. It was only a dream, a nightmare. A deep breath in… The best remedy. Loosening his grip on the blanket he realized what was wrong. Clenching a fist he didn't notice the nails were digging into his palm, leaving deep marks on the skin.

The Regent fell down on the pillow again and closed his eyes. One more breath in… That was so real, so… as if he could witness it, standing in close proximity. He had nightmares very seldom, though this one was special. A special ominous one.

Something was bothering him, giving no chance for rest. He looked through the window at the dawn breaking. So early… Again and again his thoughts were coming to the sticky fear that grasped the edge of his consciousness. That was only a dream, but, perhaps, he'd better make sure in person?

Several seconds were enough for him to get dressed. Gareth opened the door, not wasting his time for the tunic lacing, which was undone and left on a chair absent-mindedly since yesterday. There were two maids in the corridor, busy with cleaning. One of them was washing a windowsill, the other was brushing the dust off the stone statue in the corner.

"Girls, I need your help, - both maids stopped their work and bowed, - please, find Ashka or Gryvon. Or better both of them".

"Should we tell them something, Regent?" – one of the maids asked.

Oh really, what? He didn't have time to think about it.

"No, nothing, - the man shook his head, - just find out, whether they are in their rooms. And quickly".

Without saying a word, girls rushed to the opposite ends of the corridors, to Spellbinder's and Apprentice's accommodations. Gareth returned to his room, opening the balcony door. Of course, maybe this is stupid… But his intuition had never failed before, had never let him down or played any cruel jokes.

He'd rather be a panic-monger, who worried about nothing, who'd later be considered as a fool. But something was interfering. Something was pushing him forward, to the balcony, where the whole viewing platform could be seen… Gareth looked down at two black-and-scarlet silhouettes in the shadow of a tower. Despite the early hour, someone had already woken up. From the opposite side an Apprentice was walking slowly across the platform, holding some books. Squinting, the Regent got a chance to see all three better. Aaron was that Apprentice, he'd been living in the castle for three years now. And Spellbinders were Velat and – according to the hair – Marna.

Going back to his room, Gareth took the Eyestone from a shelf, ready to communicate with people on the platform if they had the devices with them. But then someone knocked at the door. Lans, surprised and confused, was standing at his doorstep.

"Good morning, Regent, - he greeted, - sorry for an early visit. Did you give anybody orders to fly to Clayhill?"

Gareth felt his heart was beating faster.

"No, if I remember right we weren't speaking about flights during the meeting. And the moment isn't proper also. But what happened?"

The Spellbinder frowned.

"Guards were making their morning round and noticed one of the ships was missing. A Clayhill one; I was passing by and heard their talk. So decided to make sure…"

The Regent squeezed the still closed Eyestone with his hands.

"I don't understand, - Lans shrugged, - it couldn't fly away by itself. Someone took it without the Council permission…"

"It seems I know who did it", - Gareth thought darkly. Then a maid appeared in the corridor, with her hair disheveled, she was running to the men near the opened door.

"There's no one in Ashka's room, - she said quickly, trying to catch her breath and bow, - I can look for her, if you want…"

"No need, - the Regent answered, looking at the shining Eyestone, - you may go".

Of course he could be wrong, putting one to another incorrectly, according to his suspicions. Nevertheless, anxiety on the edge of his consciousness started growing, supported by a kindly appearing thought that rocks are located near Clayhill. Like those rocks from his nightmare… And Lans was right, ships couldn't fly by themselves; and there was no any other person in the castle, who'd be so pleased to break the rules and act with no permission…

His hands opened the Eyestone. Lans, who told about the missing ship, was still standing at the doorstep and looking at the Regent.

"Should I go or…"

"Or", - Gareth interrupted him, - if I know everything's right, you may go. If no…, - he sighed, - well, I hope, everything will be right".

The device received a signal.

"Ashka, this is Gareth…"

He'd be glad to say everything was really right, to say he was only an old panic-monger, frightening himself. That his nightmare and missing Clayhill ship were not connected to each other or to Ashka and Gryvon that was also missing. He'd be glad to. But he couldn't. Because he froze from an Apprentice's exclamation "the power's gone" somewhere in the distance. He nearly succeeded in calming down, nearly convinced himself that there weren't and couldn't be any reasons to panic. She was experienced, piloting the flying ships for so many years with no mistakes. "The power's gone…" Was he really right; was it Gryvon who was piloting?!

Let nothing happen… Oh, that crazy stubborn girl! Thinking neither of herself, nor of the others! How could she be like this? Those minutes while Gareth was taking the heavy powersuit from the struts and putting it on seemed eternal. What to do? The Eyestone was silent; in Clayhill and the villages nearby nobody tried to contact the castle. That gave him some hope. Did a miracle happen? Everything was fine? Leaving the room and ignoring the Apprentices' greetings for the first time in his life, the Regent went to the courtyard and from there – to the stable. Besides his worries about Ashka, there was also anxiety about Gryvon in his soul. Breaking all the rules and instructions, he took the pilot's seat for the first time. If something happened to the boy – that would be Ashka's fault, undoubtedly, he touched the control levers not without her help. And if something happened to both of them… Gareth realized he wouldn't be able to live with it.

Before he had a chance to reach the stable, the man saw a big shadow moving on the ground slowly. Raising his head he noticed a ship flying towards the Tower. It seemed there was no need for emergency measures and a ride to Clayhill…

The same evening Gareth put on his powersuit again, ready to go to Clayhill. The mood was far from nice, the morning incident that nearly turned into a scandal, was a too bright pulsing spot to get rid of it quickly. Ashka and Gryvon weren't appearing or making any kind of contact. Apparently they didn't consider themselves guilty. He chose the same tactics, thinking all his anger and reproaches for two conspirators were reasonable. If they wanted to act "hurt feelings" – he wouldn't mind. After all, it was clear who was right.

Walking downstairs to the lower level, Gareth got distracted one moment and stopped thinking of the steps. He didn't notice his left foot suddenly had no floor under it…

"Oh when will you start watching your step?" – Someone's strong fingers grasped his elbow, pressing the metal bracelet into the arm. Not expecting he would suddenly lose his balance and find somebody so close, Gareth freed himself quickly and turned around.

"It's just me, no need to jerk like this", - Ashka said standing behind his back. And then she looked at her palm, where a long thin cut was reddening…

Going to say at first what he was thinking about this sudden appearing and to repeat the morning text if needed, Gareth gasped.

"I did it…? In the name of the Council, Ashka, forgive me! – The man exclaimed, taking her hand and looking at the blood drops. - You need to dress it…"

"It's nothing, - the Spellbinder objected, taking a thin handkerchief from the Eyestone bag on her belt, - I had worse ones…"

Gareth pressed the handkerchief to her palm gently, not looking above the hand. For some moments they were standing silent.

"You're awaited in Rivertown, - the woman said finally, - it's time to go".

Nearly thawing out, the Regent gave a start. Why did she say it? Why did she break this delicate balance, when they both were nearly able to forget the morning and wipe away the conflict they had had?

"Is it necessary to spoil everything? – The man asked, glancing up with bewilderment. - Just tell me".

"I spoil nothing, - Ashka looked at him imperturbably, - I'm only reminding you of your forgotten plans, Regent".

"Larius the Great, fine! – He exclaimed, taking a step back. - Fine, if this is what you want – I'll go!"

He started walking downstairs slowly, holding on to the railing and watching his steps this time. When she would be finally tired of this childishness? Sometimes everything was boiling inside him; sometimes it seemed they didn't understand each other anymore, becoming estranged…

"Dad…"

He realized he was rushing upstairs only when the woman hurrying towards embraced him and her ginger hair locks tickled his nose.

"Forgive me! Please, forgive me!"

Gareth smiled, hugging that shockingly-conflicting obstinate creature, who didn't know what she wanted.

"Of course I forgive you, what else can I do? Forgive me too, love".

A green eye looked at him uncertainly from under the hair.

"It's not just Rivertown…"

"I know, - the man nodded kissing her head, - and it's not just the cut. By the way, I should say thank you for you saved me on this stairs".

Ashka flinched. Or laughed. He didn't clarify.

"What happened during the flight was my fault, - turning a little, she smoothed her hair back, still embracing Gareth, - Gryvon's mother died, you know about it?"

The man nodded.

"I just…, - the Spellbinder stopped, - tried this situation, suppose. I'm not good at soft words or something like this. But I wanted to raise his spirit somehow. As far as possible. He was dreaming of flights for a while, so I decided…"

"You did a very human thing, - the Regent said, - and you can be proud of it. Though if you were younger, I would punish you for it".

Ashka smiled happily.

"I know, I know the time has gone, - as if hearing her thoughts he continued, - it's a pity… Well, anyway, that's a good lesson for Gryvon. I ask you just for one thing – neither you, nor him should fly without extra powerstones later. You really have no idea how frightening it was to find out you're missing".

That moment someone's quick steps were heard at the lower level. Then a tall guard appeared.

"Everything is ready, Regent. Your horse is saddled".

"Thank you, I'm coming, - when the guard left Gareth stepped back and looked into Ashka's eyes, - so, kid, do we understand each other?"

"Yes, we do", - the Spellbinder nodded.

"That's great, - for the third time the Head of the Council went downstairs, - I won't be long in Rivertown. When I come back we may have supper together".

"That would be nice, - Ashka answered, - by the way, dad…"

He turned around, stopping and looking at the woman questioningly.

"Don't tell Gryvon why I did it, alright? Let him think he's mature enough".

Gareth felt he was smiling.

"Alright. Whatever you want".


	20. Story 20 All right

**Story 20. All right. **

**H**e wasn't going for individual walks to villages since last month, when Tark had left his post in the Council, giving it to waiting Marna. He was staying in the castle, keeping order from there. The weather during these weeks after the ceremony wasn't good – the sky was cloudy, dark, sometimes spoiling the mood with a drizzling rain. However, that day Gareth challenged the nature and saddled Mist, leaving the unassailable residence. He didn't regret about it. The wind wasn't blowing and it seemed the rain wasn't going to start again.

Gryvon and Ashka stayed in the castle. Spellbinder's mood, exactly the opposite to the weather so often, was wonderful today. Finishing with an examination on history book last chapters, they were going to entertain themselves with a short duel practice. Or two, perhaps. And being aware of Gryvon's skills, he could say for sure there would me much crash somewhere at the upper levels…

For some time he was thinking whether it would be better to ride just though the forest or to go to some village. Strange, there was nothing to do there today. No news from the Summoners, nothing was happening. That was good. Calm and comfy. And strange, indeed, if admitting to himself. His irrepressible nature was always longing for so activity: creating, changing, performing. "And you wonder who made Ashka so restless", - Gareth said mentally, seeing a cut down tree on the road. His lips curled into a smile. Reins, twister… And then Mist pushed off, jumping gracefully over the obstacle. Gareth glanced at the tree left behind and moved the horse forward. Crossroad, turn… Jumping over a small hole partially covered with old leaves, Mist rushed further. It was enough for the man to give a little touch or draw The reins to make the animal obey. He wasn't enjoying the horse riding so much for a while. The cool wind blowing to his face wasn't a real rival. A cloak put on over the powersuit moved in black-and-red waves behind his back.

"The Regent is coming! Regent Gareth! Regent Gareth!" – he heard from the right. A group of boys and girls was running along the road. Apparently he didn't even notice he reached Northrock.

People who stood near their houses were turning around and bowing. Others were just appearing at the doorsteps, following the first ones immediately. Two children ran after his horse but were stopped by their disciplining parents. Gareth laughed. He had never been against this small breaking of the rule about himself. He had always been lenient to children, while adults were reproving their kids fearfully over and over again.

People from villages liked the Head of the Council. And every time like today, when he was riding through one of the settlements, people were not just greeting but also inviting him to their houses. They smiled, told him about something, from time to time they even freed their children from the discipline borders and allowed to come close to the Regent. And children were always using this chance, because he stayed and left a story or two after him. A little changed and colored one, but every time these stories were making children share their impressions with the fellows. Eyes shining with anticipation. Voices excited with delight. "Regent Gareth told such a legend…!"

"…Lara! Lara, where are you? Oh, great, mum has already caught you!" – a tall woman turned around the corner, holding a basket of apples and noticing the rider just now. The man looked at her, bowing uncertainly. So much time had gone… And every time he was seeing her – hair touched by gray that was hidden under a shawl, wrinkles around her eyes, visible now, a smile, shy one, so familiar – every time the years were disappearing, wiped away.

"Hello, Mira".

"Regent…, - the woman put the basket on the ground and smiled again, - it's my honor! May I ask what brings you to us?"

Gareth glanced at the houses. People came back to their business, aware of the fact that the Regent wasn't fond of long ceremonies and crowds with excitements.

"Just this riding, - he dismounted and took the reins, - you granddaughter is naughty again as I see".

"Oh she is unmanageable! – The woman threw up her hands. Then she bethought and looked at him. - Excuse me, Regent, I forgot to invite you! Come in, please!"

"Where's Lem?"

"Went fishing to the river, together with our son. They decided to go today, as the weather is good".

Despite the Regent's words that he wasn't hungry, the woman put a plate with flavored thick soup on the table. Her eyes flashed.

"What will my husband say, coming home and seeing I gave nothing to a guest, so important one? – She asked. - Oh no, Regent, nobody can say I am a bad housewife".

He laughed, starting his meal. It was useless to argue with Mira about her home, family or household.

"Just Gareth".

"What?"

"Gareth, - the man looked at her with a smile, - let's change an official hospitality for a friendly on, by right of old acquaintance".

The housewife sat down opposite, grasping her apron.

"I'm not sure if it is right, - she smiled gently, - though, if no one hears, Gareth…"

He sighed happily. Today it was really something extraordinary. The whole large family of Mira – her husband, two children and two, no, three grandchildren for some time now – were not together. Her son and daughter, grown up, were living at the opposite end of the village, in their own houses. And only her grandchildren, being to little yet, were still the exceptions, running through Northrock all days long, coming to their parents and grandparents. Luckily, that wasn't a long distance. However, the whole family gathered together during some days. But today was not one of these "family" days.

"Thank you, - Gareth nodded, - this manner is more preferable for me".

The woman smiled again, pouring berry drink into two wooden mugs.

"I haven't seen you for ages. Did something happen?"

"No, it's all as usual, life in the castle…", - the Regent answered evasively and felt surprised. He didn't like any kind of lie, but he was also lying now, in a way. Marna was a nice woman, taking the throne after her teacher. They knew each other for many years. They understood each other. But there were times when he doubted that decision and will of Tark. Marna was lovely as a Spellbinder. As a Regent… Once he hoped to abolish that tradition of showing Spellbinders' actions as some kind of a miracle and magic. If not with that Council, then with the successors. However, entering her upon her duties, Marna supported Lukan and Tark she followed, shocking with so strange narrow-mindedness.

Mira clicked with her tongue.

"Gareth, you can read people. And you forget once I was able to read you".

"It's politics, - he said unwillingly, - but let's nor speak about it now".

"As you wish, - the woman agreed, - then I'll tell you about your namesake".

"That's better, - the Regent laughed, - I can always listen about him".

She laughed too and started telling. The youngest grandson, named after the Head of the Council, was already six months old. While father was hunting, mother or grandmother was looking after him, telling incredible stories about Spellbinders and a magical castle where they were living. Something was created by Mira, something was based on well-known information. Though sometimes she was reminiscing and telling the child about a wonderful man – Gareth the Noble who had been an Apprentice and turned into a Regent.

"You really have no idea how interested he is! – The woman said with excitement. - Even lullabies don't work!"

"Yes, this is how children get their fertile imagination, - Gareth looked dreamily in his mug with some drink inside, - he'll be interested in flying ships in some years…"

"And how can I not tell him, - Mira continued, pouring some more drink, - when men come back you may go and see him if you would like. Would you?"

He thought a little, remembering what he had to do. Not so much, and after all, his absence wouldn't be long.

"Why not? – The Regent said finally. - I haven't seen Gareth-number-two for ages, suppose, he grew up. And besides children are wonderful".

"I'm happy to know we both think so".

They sat silent for a while, thinking of the same – of the little listener of wonderful Spellbinder stories and legends, thanks to Mira, there were more and more of them. And they were more and more interesting.

"And I am happy for you, - Gareth said honestly, - sorry, but sometimes I long for asking about it…", - he closed his eyes for a moment.

"To ask if I regret?" – The housewife guessed.

He opened his eyes immediately. Seeing the guest's confusion, Mira put her hand on top of his.

"Gareth, I think we were destined to be separated once. At first it was very painful for me. And I felt offended, by you also, though I knew deep in my heart you had to accept the situation. Then the pain was gone, it was smaller, quieter. Then my parents married me to Lem. And he happened to be a very good man, I love him, I appreciate him. I hold on to him".

The man smiled.

"You have a great family, Mira".

"That only proves I am right, - the woman nodded, - indeed, I have a great family, beloved children and grandchildren. I am happy. And you, Gareth? Did you regret about the loss?"

He didn't need to think of an answer.

"Yes, I did. Sometimes I hated Brey for what he did to us. Sometimes I imagined how everything could be, if we'd live together…"

"And now?" – Mira was watching him calmly.

"Now? Suppose, my pain was also gone in time. I got so much instead those losses. I have a wonderful daughter I really adore. I have a legal right and a chance to change our land and hope these changes are for better… yes, suppose, my life may be considered a happy one…"

He looked at Mira, whose eyes were shining with understanding and approval.

"All right, Gareth, this is how it should be. We lose something and we find something. All right".

He smiled in return, squeezing her fingers gently.

"You became wiser, Mira. Or is it only for me?"

His companion laughed.

"Speak frankly, I grew older".

"Come on, - the man pulled her hand, - you're the last person, of whom such things can be told. And you know, - he continued after a short pause, - for me you will always be the first beauty of Northrock, which was dancing with me at celebrations".

Mira lowered her head.

"Thank you very much. And for me, - she looked at the man one more time, - you will always be the same careless boy in Apprentice uniform, - she glanced at the dishes, remembering her duties, - well, may I offer you anything else?"


	21. Story 21 Old books

**Story 21. Old books. **

**W**hat a quiet evening… What a strangely quiet and charming evening… The castle was surprisingly calm tonight, and for some reasons these peace and quiet appeared for the Regent just now. The weather was fine and the evening wind going through the opened window – cool but mild. Another rush of it, though perhaps it was because of the hand move, took the dust from the nearest book velvet cover, raising it into the air.

Gareth sneezed, looking at two rows of books, lying symmetrically on his table. Oh no, that was no good at all. Astronomy journals were taking the better part of it for about a week, and he didn't even want to take his pretty collection and bring it back to the library. What else was there? Squatting, the man observed the books and felt surprised. Great, the history of the first Spellbinder castle, a folded constellation map, two geography books… Wonderful, that's why yesterday he realized belatedly everything had been read and looked through.

Standing up and shaking the dust off himself, the Regent sat down in the chair, thinking of what to do. It was evening. Late evening. After all, the castle residents were having supper this hour, not busy with any trifles. He'd rather follow their example and order to lay The table. But his accuracy was competing with the idle thoughts of the fact that he was to spend another night without reading. That was too much.

"All right, - Gareth thought, - it's time to tidy up your accommodation, or else you'll keep on sneezing". He laughed. Book dust was depressing him sometimes, despite the fact that man liked the books and had always been thirsting for knowledge. If only they didn't have that annoying feature that was making his eyes red…

All right… Suddenly Gareth remembered Mira, with whom he was talking two days ago. It was she who told him the same words. "All right". There was something to think about.

He remembered his little namesake, which grew up since his last visit to Northrock. And yes, he was recognized, he was remembered! The child smiled, looking into his blue eyes, stretching out tiny arms to him… Gareth was holding him, touched by their meeting and the most sincere emotions. Once he had been dreaming of living with Mira, having a son. The fate had other plans. He was gifted with a daughter, not his own, but close and the most beloved one. Sometimes he was looking at Ashka and wondering – what was it? Was there something he had missed in this case? Looking at Gareth-number-two, his wide opened eyes, the Regent understood he was probably missing those five years before her sixth one, when he'd seen her in the forest…

But he got even more than he hoped for. It was not just "all right", it was really wonderful. Though, unlike Mira, he didn't have any grandchildren yet… Gareth giggled. Well, all in good time. At least, there was someone to take his post after him. And that was the most important. And yet he didn't need to look in the distant future, but concentrate on the present. Stretching himself properly, he glanced at his table. His face expression became decisively-suffering once again. Enough of it. He either overcome his sudden laziness, or keep on sneezing, afraid of his own reflection.

Standing up, Gareth went to the door. The corridors were a little cooler and livelier. Servants were passing by with big trays with food; two guards went in the distance, discussing something. Young Nathia rushed downstairs, taking two steps at a time and nearly running into the Regent. Apologizing with a smile and a bow, the girl ran further. Gareth went his way, to Ashka's room.

"Good evening, may I come in?" – he knocked and opened the door. It seemed Ashka was also going to have supper. The table had been arranged, anyway. And the whole room looked lovely – the fire was lit up, candles were put everywhere. The woman was lighting them up with one more candle.

"Sure, - Ashka looked at him over her shoulder, - have you had supper? If no we may stay here, I will arrange the cutlery".

"That's a good idea, - Gareth approved, entering the room, - but I was going to ask you for help actually".

"What is it?" – Ashka stood up, smoothing her hair back and looking at the lights.

"Could you help me bring the old books to the library?" – The Regent asked feeling he was to get plenty of excuses. The library was a level lower and in the opposite part of the castle. Ashka was aware of it. And indeed, there were her excuses.

"The ones from your table? – The Spellbinder guessed, grimacing. - Is it necessary now?"

"Not so necessary, - Gareth shrugged, - but I'm just tired of the lack of new information. And I'm tired of inhaling the dust".

"You are sneezing again?" – Ashka asked sympathetically. For her book dust wasn't a problem.

Seeing her confusion, Gareth nodded sadly, flapping his eyelashes. The woman realized that trick was to break her resistance and reluctance to go to the library at night.

"Why wouldn't you ask servants?" – She gave him a good argument.

"These youth are diligent, of course, - the Regent said, - but they succeed with books every other time. And they aren't always succeeding with accuracy".

Ashka bit her lip thoughtfully, glancing at the table where supper was waiting. His words about accuracy were reasonable, very reasonable. And she knew it.

"I really wouldn't like to go to the library now, - she confessed quietly, - you don't even know how I wouldn't… Isn't it better to go after supper?"

"I have a good idea for "after supper", - Gareth's eyes shined cheerfully, - why don't we saddle the horses – you, Gryvon and I – and ride through the forest?"

"Now?" – Ashka asked, forgetting she didn't even agree to go to the library.

"Oh, so you don't mind helping your dad?" – The man noticed it, laughing.

"Apparently I have no choice, - the Spellbinder through up her hands, - if you want to do it tonight. And if it helps you stop sneezing", - she added, giggling.

Gareth came closer, embracing her shoulders.

"Thank you, my Ginger Fox, - he said, kissing Ashka's cheek, - I almost stopped sneezing now".

"Really? – The woman stepped back, looking at him suspiciously. - You're strange tonight…"

"Why?"

"Well…, - she paused, - I just feel it this way. I haven't called me "Ginger Fox" for ages".

"I thought you didn't like it anymore".

"I liked, actually, - Ashka smiled, - I was just stubborn, as usual. You know…"

"I know, - he confirmed, kissing her one more time, - so, what about horse riding? Do you mind?"

"Sounds great, - the Spellbinder admitted, - we could go to the old ruins… but we have to ask Gryvon at first, if he doesn't mind".

"So we'll ask after the library and supper, - back to his purpose, the man concluded, - I think Gryvon will agree and everything will be fine".

Pulling Ashka's short hair lock gently, he went to the door first.

"Let's go?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, then followed her father.

"Let's go. You're right, everything will be fine…"


	22. Story 22 Epilogue

**Story 22. Epilogue. **

**T**he sun was almost down at the horizon, when we went out of the castle, moving across the spur bridge in a line and further, to Valaphire. It wasn't too far, but the four ahead – Lans, Lukan, Correon and Emerick carrying the palanquin seemed to rush somewhere, setting the pace and hurrying the others. Tark and Marna followed them; luckily they just followed, without turning around and doing unnecessary things. I followed the two, trying to be careful with the dress train. I felt with my skin everyone behind was watching me. Observing, examining, testing… Longing for finding something – and failing with it. I knew what they wanted – to see any signs of grief, perhaps to hear hysterical sobs and crying. My lips curled into a smile unwillingly. Oh no, I shall grant nobody with such a sight, the yesterday evening was enough…

A smile faded from my face. What was yesterday after I returned to my room? The memories were still hazy, replaced by the most shameful thing of my life – my very own tears. And wine that made everything even hazier…

Today I woke up feeling like a pile of rusty metal, not understanding at first how I could be in my bed. What was yesterday? What did I do? What did I say? Then the realization came, my face blushed. Suppose, nobody had ever been able to compromise themselves in such a way. Horrified, I looked in the mirror – wrinkled clothes, in which I slept, disheveled hair, swollen eyelids. Maybe I had better stay in the room? At least, Spellbinders would think that I mourn… I imagined everyone would turn around and look at me in the corridors… Felt dizzy. If only Gryvon told anyone about yesterday night…

But no, there were no glances. Nobody turned around to look at "that Ashka, who burst into tears yesterday". After brushing up and changing I left the room and saw it wasn't that bad. Anyway, corridors were empty. For a moment I felt grateful. I had never been fond of that emotion; gratitude was making people depend on other people. I preferred to depend on no one. And the only exception I was making in terms of gratitude was you… Though, apparently Gryvon deserved that feeling too. Or was it so contagious?

I got the proof that my Apprentice was keeping his word later that day, when in one of the passages I heard the footsteps and mocking words behind my back:

"You're like a stone, I see it once again. For decency you could at least try to look upset".

Jal… Bright spots flashed in front of me. Before I understood what I was doing my hands grasped the throat of this toad, pressing him into the wall.

"Don't you dare… speak of the things you don't know, - I hissed scratching his skin with my nails, - if I hear from you a single word about Gareth before tomorrow – I swear, I will be banished for a murder!"

He freed himself, stepping back with horror and calling me crazy. I just wiped my hands on the bottom of the tunic dramatically and went further. Crazy? Maybe. I know I was overwhelmed with blind rage, but I don't know what prevented me from doing the fatal. Perhaps, the thought of you never accepting any violence?

And meanwhile we came. I returned to the present. The palanquin was put on the pyre. You were lying on the satin cover, the blue one, by the way. Your favorite color… I remember you joked once, after your Crowning ceremony, that you'd rather prefer the sapphires, not rubies, if the crown was made for you only. You remember it? And here was Lukan, starting his impassive monologue about your virtues and achievements… he was speaking and I thought of yesterday. Of you appearing at my doorstep. So happy but sad a little. Book dust again… Why did I let, why did I allow you to go to that damned library? Why didn't stop? Why didn't we have any arguments, didn't insult each other, didn't start quarreling? Why didn't you ask servants for such smallness? They aren't succeeding with accuracy? I don't care about accuracy! If you stayed in the room – you'd be alive now…

You weren't supposed to be gone. Not you. Not like this. You have always been a symbol of energetic life, your eyes seemed to give that energy to those you looked at… You smiled, careless, impossibly-spirited, cheerful. Strange, people were getting your cheerfulness, but you didn't have less of it? How could it be?

The most alive. The luckiest. You were always lucky, even Jal felt it. The fate seemed to be kind to your adventures and ideas. And you never could stop, you rushed forward, not staying where you were. As if it wasn't enough, as if you lacked more achievements…

Perhaps, I had to die instead of you? Long before, twenty-six years ago. I would have fallen from a rock – and nothing would have happened. We wouldn't have met each other, you wouldn have nobody to ask for help yesterday… Nothing would have happened. Now I wouldn't be standing among Spellbinders and Apprentices, next to the funeral pyre that was to take you away…

"…Ashka, - Marna turned to me, so strangely kind and friendly, - maybe you would like to say something?"

"I could say so much, - a thought came, - but I want to say nothing". Anyway, I went forward, clearing my throat. Pretend. Just pretend there are no any of them, no Valaphire side we stand at, no pyre you lie on. Even now you look as if having a nap, tired after another meeting. Eyes closed, a stubborn lock of hair fell on your forehead… Lips almost smiling. "To say something?" I want to run to you, shake you firmly, shouting "Wake up!". Wake up, crazy man, it's not a game, it's not a joke! Or was it reckoning? For all my tricks and pranks, for me offending you? It's scary to think how much there were, if you "joke" like this.

"He was not wonderful, - I said with my chin up, but still looking only at you, - he was the best. Gareth the Noble – I imagined this title the day he was crowned. And he was noble indeed. My father was like people from our legends. They don't exist. But he was exactly like them…"

I couldn't continue. Not because I burst into tears or had no words. I had many. But all my words, all my tears wouldn't be enough to justice you. Lukan tried and failed. Didn't succeed even with the half. And me? What could I tell you?

My hand squeezed your palm, so warm. What could I tell? What was I telling you, Regent? Gareth? Dad? Dad… I was afraid of this word for many years because I had no dad. Because I thought you wouldn't approve, considering this offence too familiar… When I was a child you gave me instructions about "Gareth". There were no instructions about "dad". How long was I living, following your instructions, not even thinking I could go against all of them?

You didn't understand it too, right? You also were afraid, of something unknown. When you were combing my hair for the ball it was obvious, nearly readable in your eyes. How much time did we lose? How much of it we had later, that lost time? How many times I behaved like a fool, showing off? I was supposed to behave in a different way, I know. I should have spent every minute of mine with you, telling how much I love you. I told. But very seldom. Now I won't be able to do it more often.

How were you able to treat me? Looking at those times, I wonder how you dealt with all my tricks, how could you be so patient. I was a little monster indeed. Then I grew up and became a bigger monster. All my pranks, all these wanderings round the castle and on the walls… And you just smiled, as if afraid to be too strict. Even your punishments weren't strict, but formal…

I was watching the flames flared up on the blue satin folds. Suddenly I shivered, almost painfully. Funny, the pyre was so hot and I felt cold… I regretted about the cloak I left in the castle and didn't put over my dress.

Those flames… I took a step back, then another one… Does it make any sense to stand in the crowd, which was sighing and glancing at me sympathetically? I don't need their sympathy? Or do I? Anyway, not from all of them. And not so dramatic.

Those flames… Stopping in the distance, behind all the Spellbinders and Apprentices, I looked at the pyre and felt a little more – and everything will be over. You will vanish. I had always been afraid that my happiness would disappear once, that you would be taken away from me, that someone's ruthless hand would pull you out from this reality… I was right. And now the impassionate flame was destroying the last thing I had – you image. Now I was keeping only that silver ring, but even no portrait of you. Nobody painted it. Why? What will happen in a couple of years? Human capabilities are limited. What if one day I wake up and the picture is destroyed completely? What then?

I couldn't let this happen. I concentrated, grasping my shoulders. You have blue eyes. Not as blue as the sky, but field flower-blue. Your hair is short and stubborn, wheat-colored. It was long before. You have an incredible smile and dimples on your cheeks… it seemed the sun was smiling. Your posture is proud, trained by wearing of the powersuits and horse riding… It was like the pyre was burning higher, faster… Wait a minute, a little more, I haven't recalled everything! My memory was good, thanks to constant history books reading. I could remember any dates and names. That was the skill I was using now. You weren't fond of violence, preferred to solve everything peacefully, I loved horse riding… What else? Faster! Your favorite color is blue. You loved the woman from Northrock… Mira… Your teacher was against… Something else… You had a charming voice, you sang beautifully… Nobody in the castle was able to sing like this for ages… The flames were higher, hotter… Something else, I need something else!

"…Night was his favorite time of day", - somebody's hands touched me, putting a warm cloak on my shoulders. I flinched and turned around. I didn't hear and notice Gryvon coming. Or was I so deep in my thoughts?

"How did you know…", - I didn't finish.

My Apprentice smiled sadly.

"Why should I read thoughts if you pronounce them, Spellbinder?' – He mumbled, straightening the clock and my hair under the hood. We turned to the pyre again. Suppose, I was really unable to think clearly, if Gryvon's hands still on my shoulders didn't seem something familiar and inappropriate. On the contrary, now it felt surprisingly soothing. Was it because of yesterday night? After all, Gryvon saw much… Or was my damned nicety that prevented me from accepting everyone's sympathy, making an exception now?

"Ashka".

"What?"

"Ashka, - I repeated, - you may call me by name".

I didn't want him to thank or add something after this phrase of mine. And he said nothing. Gratitude, coming to my soul this morning not in time, reminded of itself again. Gryvon could be really tender; I haven't noticed it before…

Seemed like yesterday was continuing. And for some reason now I didn't think that being weak was shameful. I had always been pretending, for everybody, except you. But Gryvon has seen a real me twice already… That happened to become a tradition…

We were standing at the riverside, together, behind all those present. We were standing and watching the flames taking you away from this world… Once you wanted us to find common language. Tonight you could be proud of us. As sad as it was, Gryvon and I were brought together by your death… You were the best. And you will always be. And now I know that the best are the first ones to be taken away by death. And that I have to start surviving alone.

The flames started fading… Mentally I refreshed the list of things I had time to recall. Hope that will be enough. And I won't forget a thing.

Well, rest in peace, Regent Gareth. The greatest one our land has ever seen…


End file.
